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T H E 


HOME LOVERS’ 

LIBRARY 


DR. ORISON SWETT MARDEN 

M 

Editor-in-Chief 


GEORGE RAYWOOD DEVITT, M.A. 

( Member National Geographic Society , Member Anthropological Society ) 

Managing Editor 


A LIBRARY OF 

AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION 

EMBRACING THE ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE, HISTORY, 
BIOGRAPHY, GEOGRAPHY, COMMERCE, FINANCE, 
STATISTICS, &c., CONCISELY ARRANGED 
FOR READY REFERENCE. 


Volume I. 


> » J 

->—>- 


Bureau of National Literature and Art 
New York and Washington 

1906 
















A.H c> 

. i/V\&, 


[LIBRARY of CONGRESS 


Two Copies Received 

r E8 21190/ 

o Copyright Entry 

• LfJ H to k 

CLA'SS /\ XXc.i No, 

J*S //- & / ( . 

COPY B. 


Copyrighted 1906 

BY 

The Bureau of National Literature and Art. 


* 



• I » 

• » 






EDITORIAL STAFF 


ORISON SWETT HARDEN 

Editor-in-Chief. 

GEORGE RAY WOOD DEVITT, M. A. 

Managing Editor 


ASSOCIATE EDITORS 

MARION FOSTER WASHBURNE CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, M. A. 

ELISABETH SYLVESTER 
ELSA BARKER WILBUR FISK HINMAN 

JASON E. HAMMOND ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON 

DANIEL BATCIIELLOR 

• ANNA McCLURE SHULL MRS. THEODORE W. BIRNEY 




VI 


r 

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS 


<( They give us their best from the fullness of their lives f 


REV. THOMAS ROBERT SLICER 
CHARLES FREDERICK WINGATE 
DR. FELIX LEOPOLD OSWALD 

Recorder Equitable Rife Assurance Company 

SAMUEL FROST 

ARTHUR TWINING HADLEY 

President Yale College 

DAVID STARR JORDAN 

President Eeland Stanford Jr. University 

CHARLES FRANKLIN THWING 

President Western Reserve University 

HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, 
LL.D. 

RANDOLPH GUGGENHEIMER 
HENRY MORTON 

President Stevens Institute of Technology 

REV. DR. F. C. IGLEHART 
HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH 

Editor Youth’s Companion 

SAMUEL SILAS CURRY 

President School of Expression, Boston 

EDWARD EVERETT HALE 
REV. ROBERT COLLYER 
CHARLES M. SCHWAB 
BISHOP JOHN F. HURST - 
REV. DAVID JAMES BURRELL 
NEWELL DWIGHT HILLIS 
REV. FRANK W. GUNSAULUS 
REV. M. SOLLEY 

St. Patrick’s Church, Newburgh, N. Y. 

DR. CHARLES D. McIVOR 

President N. C. State Normal School 

HENRY MITCHELL MacCRACKEN 

Chancellor New York University 

GEORGE FREDERICK SHRADY, 
M.D. 

WILLIAM TOD HELMUTH, M.D. 


DR. JOHN I. HART 

President N. Y. State Dental Association 

FREDERICK RENE COUDERT 

GENERAL BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
TRACY 

PROFESSOR ISAAC FRANKLIN 
RUSSELL 

ALLAN FORMAN 

Editor of * The Journalist n 

HENRY WATTERSON 

/ 

WILLIAM D. HOWELLS 
ANTHONY HOPE 
EDGAR FAWCETT 
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 
BERTHA RUNKLE 
EDWIN MARKHAM 
CHARLES WESLEY EMERSON 

President Emerson College of Oratory 

WILLIAM MERRITT CHASE 

PROFESSOR DANIEL BAT.CH- 
ELLOR 

JOHN GALEN HOWARD 

Architect of the University of California 

CONSTANT COQUELIN 
RICHARD MANSFIELD 
MINNIE MADDERN FISKE 

JULIA MARLOWE 
JOHN FISKE 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
BENJAMIN B. ODELL, Jr. 

Governor of New York State 

EX-SPEAKER GALUSHA AARON 
GROW 

SENATOR JOSEPH BENSON FOR- 
AKER 




LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS 


BENJAMIN F. JONES 
JOHN ROBERT PROCTOR 

President of the U. S. Civil Service Commission 

ADMIRAL SCHLEY 
LIEUTENANT-GENERAL MILES 
GEORGE W. McCLUSKY 

Chief of Detectives, N. Y. 

WILLIAM M. WELCH 

DR. T. C. MARTIN 

PARK BENJAMIN 

THOMAS A. EDISON 

HUDSON MAXIM 

CHARLES C. BAYLIS 

CARROLL DAVIDSON WRIGHT 

U. S. Commissioner of Labor 

JAMES B. REYNOLDS 

REV. A. P. DOYLE 

SECRETARY CHARLES D. WIL¬ 
SON 

CHARLES F. HEXAMER 

Editor of " The American Agriculturist ” 

ISAAC PHILLIPS ROBERTS 

Director College of Agriculture and of the U. 
S. Experimental Station, Cornell Univer¬ 
sity 

HENRY SABIN 

WILLIAM FLETCHER KING 

President Cornell College, la. 

CHARLES RANLETT FLINT 
JOHN GREENE 

Editor Bradstreet 

CLEMENT C. GAINES 
E. P. HATCH 

Of Eord & Taylor’s 

NATHAN STRAUSS 

Of R. H. Macy & Co. 

MILES M. O’BRIEN 

Representative of H. B. Claflin & Co. 

LYMAN JUDSON GAGE 

Secretary Treasury United States 

GEORGE WALTON WILLIAMS 
GAGE E. TARBELL 

Second Vice-president Equitable Uife Assur- 
rance Company 

HENRY CLEWS 
JAMES J. HILL 

ALEXANDERJOHNSON CASSATT 
WILLIAM M. GARRETT 


• • 
Vll 

REBECCA HARDING DAVIS 
ELIZABETH CADY STANTON 
JENNIE JUNE CROLY 
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX 
MRS. EDWIN MARKHAM 

BELVA ANN BENNETT LOCK- 
WOOD 

ELLA A. BLACK 

HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD 
MAY WRIGHT SEWELL 

MRS. CHARLES WARREN FAIR¬ 
BANKS 

WILBUR F. JACKMAN 

Professor of Natural Science, Blaine School, 
University of Chicago 

J. MERLE COULTER 

Professor of Botany, Chicago University 

MILTON UPDEGRAFF 

U. S. Naval Observatory 

BAXTER MORTON, M.D. 

U. S. Patent Office 

CHARLES F. JOHNSON 
JULES GUTHRIDGE 
CHARLES A. CONANT 

Special Commissioner Finance to Philippines, 
New York Journal of Commerce 

CHARLES F. BENJAMIN 
G. STANLEY HALL, LL.D. 

President Clark University, Worcester 

JESSE WALTER FEWKES 

Bureau of Ethnology, U. S. 

CARL HENRY ANDREW BJERRE- 
GAARD 

librarian, The Astor Library, N. Y. 

CHARLES JOHNSTON 
BLISS CARMAN 

Author — Poet 

EPIPHANIUS WILSON 
MRS. GEORGE NASH 
MARION FOSTER WASHBURNE 
NORMAN FOSTER, M.D. 

KATE BLAKE 

JOHN H. McCORMICK, M.D. 

MRS. THEODORE W. BIRNEY 
ELIZA MOSHER, M.D. 

Professor Hygiene Department and Women’s 
Dean, University of Michigan 


LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS 


ORISON SWETT MARDEN 

D. F. St. CLAIR 

LIDA A. CHURCHILL 

REV. EDWARD PAYSON TENNEY 

ARTHUR W. BROWN 

MARGARET CONNOLLY 

ERNEST W. HOLMES 

REV. W. J. TILLEY 

ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON 

FRANK ROE BATCHELDER 

JASON E. HAMMOND 

Superintendent of Education Michigan 

ARTHUR F. WILLISTON 

Director of Science and Technology, Pratt In¬ 
stitute 

REV. WILLIAM STEPHEN RAINS 7 
FORD 

REV. CHARLES H. EATON 
MILES O’BRIEN 

Chairman Board of Education, New York 

MARY F. PEABODY 
CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 

Author— Poet 

JULIA WARD HOWE 
ELIZABETH CADY STANTON 
MRS. FRANK LESLIE 
HENRIETTE HOVEY 

Pupil and for some time assistant of the cele¬ 
brated Gustave Delsarte 

MAY ELIZABETH WILSON SHER¬ 
WOOD 

WILLIAM S. HILLS 

Secretary of Gymnasium, Columbia College 

MRS. RUSSELL SAGE 
WILLIAM ORDWAY PARTRIDGE 

Sculptor — Author 

LESLEY GLENDOWER PEABODY 
JAMES GIBBONS HUNEKER 

Author—Music Critic with New York Musical 
Courier 

LOUIS CHARLES ELSON 

Professor N. E. Conservatory of Music 

ABBEY PERKINS CHENEY 
WILLIAM JAMES HENDERSON 

Musical Critic — Author 

WILLIAM SMITH BABCOCK 
MATHEWS 

Editor of M Music,” Musical Writer 


HUGH ARCHIBALD CLARKE 

Professor of Music at University of Pennsyl¬ 
vania 

MARY FANTON 

Editor “ New Ideas” (Magazine) 

ANNA McCLURE SHOLL 
ROLAND HINTON PERRY 

Sculptor, Designer of (< Court of Neptune,” Con¬ 
gressional Dibrary 

CHARLES E. LITTLEFIELD 

U. S. Congressman 

JULIUS ST. GEORGE TUCKER 

Former Consul at Martinique, W. I. 

HENRY CODMAN POTTER 

P. E. Bishop of New York 

ELSA BARKER 

Author 

CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER 

Essayist and Novelist 

WINSTON CHURCHILL 

Author and Novelist 

LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON 

Novelist and Poet 

EDWARD S. ELLIS 
BEATRICE HARRADEN 

Novelist 

WILLIAM CLARK RUSSELL 

Novelist 

THURLOW WEED ‘ 

Editor — Politician 

HENRY GEORGE 

Political-economist 

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD 

Poet — Reviewer 

EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN 

Poet — Critic 

THOMAS COLLIER PLATT 

U. S. Senator — President U. S. Express Com¬ 
pany 

SILAS WIER MITCHELL, M.D. 

Author 

EDMUND GOSSE 

Poet— Essayist — Critic 

ROBERT GRANT 

Author — Judge of Probate and Insolvency 

GEORGE C. BARRETT 
MRS. LELAND STANFORD 
JOHN DAVIDSON ROCKEFELLER 

Capitalist 

MARSHALL FIELD 

Merchant 

RUSSELL CONWELL 

President Temple College 


LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS 


IX 


GEORGE RAYWOOD DEV ITT 
M.A. 

LELAND OSSIAN HOWARD 

Chief of Division of Entomology U. S. Depart¬ 
ment of Agriculture 

THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGIN- 
SON 

Author 

GENERAL THOMAS L. ROSSER 
SAMUEL M. BRYAN 
JOHN W. GOFF 

CHAUNCEY MITCHELL DEPEW 

U. S. Senator. 

GEORGE WESTINGHOUSE 

Inventor— Manufacturer 

STEPHEN BENTON ELKINS 

U. S. Senator 

JOSEPH EDWARD SIMMONS 

Banker 

WILLIAM CONANT CHURCH 

Editor— Author 

ARTHUR WING PINERO 

Dramatist 

JOSEPH HODGES CHOATE 

U. S. Ambassador to England 

WILLIAM VINCENT ALLEN 

Ex-Senator 

JOHN W. KELLER 
JONATHAN P. DOLLIVER 

Congressman — Eawyer 

THOMAS LEMUEL JAMES 

Ex-Postmaster — General — Banker 

ISAAC N. SELIGMAN 

Banker 

ANDREW CARNEGIE 

Manufacturer 

ROSWELL P. FLOWER 

Ex-Governor of New York 

RUFUS ROCKWELL WILSON 
CHARLES BROADWAY ROUSS 

Merchant 

JOHN EAMES 

General Manager, H. B. Claflin Company 

JOHN GILMER SPEED 

Author — Journalist 

FRANK LEE FARNELL 

SAMUEL LANGHORNECLEMENS 
(Mark Twain) 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS WARD 

Sculptor 

WILBUR FISK HINMAN 
FRANCES MARION CRAWFORD 

Novelist 

GEORGE CLEMENT PERKINS 

U. S. Senator 

JOSEPH PULITZER 

Proprietor New York « World n 

ANTHONY BRADY 
THOMAS HENRY CARTER 

Ex-Senator 

ALBERT J. BEVERIDGE 

U. S. Senator 

J. C. BAYLIS 

Formerly Editor * Iron Age ” 

CHARLOTTE DOBBINS 
EUGENE F. BISBEE 
J. D. WARFIELD 
ELSIE HOLFORD 
ORIANA M. WILLIAMS 
MARY ANNA BROWN 
HENRY B. RUSSELL 
MORTIMER A. DOWNING 
FREDERICK A. SAWYER 
CYRUS P. JONES 
E. E. HIGGINS 
DUDLEY A. SARGENT 

Professor Physical Culture, Harvard University 

W. H. BALLOU 

ROBERT MACKAY 

LAURA MORGAN 

MARGARET ELIZABETH SANG- 
STER 

ANITA NEWCOMBE MAGEE, M.D. 
ROSCOE L. PETERSON 

U. S. N. A. 

HARRY C. LEWIS 

Department of Justice 

MARGARET B. DOWNING 
HENRY KETCHAM 
L. C. EVANS 

CELESTE BENNETT DOBBINS 
REV. DR. WILLIAMS 


X 


LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS 


MARY SQUIRE HINMAN 
MARY TWOMBLY 
FLORENCE LIPPINCOTT 

M. de HAAS BULKLEY 
E. S. BASS 

LESLIE F. CLEMENS 

E. L. SNELL 

J. P. COUGHLAN 

MADELEINE KENDRICK VAN 
PELT 

HARRY STEELE MORRISON 
RUTH EVERETT 
PAUL LATZKE 
H. I. DODGE 

F. L. BLANCHARD 
R. M. FULLER 

ETC. ETC. 


ELISABETH SYLVESTER 
AMELIA EDITH BARR 

Author 

J. C. BROWN 
J. G. TUCKER 
FRANCES TOBEY 
H. M. LOWE 
VAN CULLEN JONES 
EMILY C. SHAW 
J. C. RANSOM 
J. H. DEMPSEY 
EMMA P. HEALD 
C. H. CLAUDY 
ELIZA PITTMAN 

FLORENCE LOUISE HART 
E. L. BRENIZER 


ETC. ETC. 


TABLE OF CONTENTS 

Volume I 


HOME DEV 

PAGE 


The American Home . i 

The Home. 5 

The House. 8 

Taste in Furnishing.10 

The Hall.11 

Drawing-Room or Parlor ... 12 

The Library or Living-Room . . 15 

The Dining-Room.15 

The Sleeping-Room.18 

The Bath-Room.20 


ELOPMENT 

PAGE 


The Home —Continued 

The Nursery.21 

The Kitchen.23 

The Laundry.25 

Carpets and Rugs.32 

Window Shades and Draperies . 35 

Tapestry.36 

Decorative Woods.36 

The Grounds .37 

Income and Rent ...... 38 


SOCIAL USAGES 


The Art of Entertaining ... 41 

The Hostess and Her Guests . 42 

Introductions.43 

Chaperonage.44 

Engagements and Weddings . . 46 

Wedding Gifts.49 

Dinners.50 

Dances—Opera and Theater 

Parties.53 

Literary ClPbs.54 


Garden Parties.58 

Picnicking.58 

Calling.60 

Courtesy .63 

The Highest Type of Girl . . 69 

The College Girl.71 

The Art of Conversation . . 77 

Traveling.81 

The Art of Correspondence . 87 


HOUSEKEEPING 


Introduction.97 

System in Housekeeping ... 99 

The Housekeeper as a Finan¬ 
cier .100 

The Housekeeper as a Sanita¬ 
rian ..102 

The Housekeeper as a Nurse . 103 


House Cleaning .104 

Marketing.108 

Selecting Meats.109 

Table Service ....... 112 

Care of Silver.115 

Carving.115 

Flour.118 





































Xll 


TABLE OF CONTENTS 




PAGE 


PAGE 

Bread Making. 

• • 

120 

The Keeping of Pets . 

136 

The Care of Food .... 

• • 

12 I 

The Canary . 

136 

Utilizing Remnants . 


122 

The Parrot . 

I 1^0 

The Care of Linen . . . 


123 . 

The Cockatoo. 

141 

Care of Lamps. 


I2 4 

The Pigeon . 

142 

Sweeping . 


I2 5 

The Cat . 

142 

Household Pests .... 


127 

The Dog . 

J 44 

Ants . 


127 

Training the Dog . 

146 

Bedbugs . 


127 

The Rabbit . 


Fleas . 


128 

Monkeys and Rodents .... 

153 

The Servant Question . . 


130 



DRESS 

AS A 

FINE ART 


Dress as a Fine Art 

. . 

157 

Dresses. 

182 

Fashion. 


159 

Dress Reform. 

186 

Fabrics. 


162 

Expression or Dramatic Effects 

189 

Color . 


169 

The Symbols of Precious Stones 

193 

Jewels. 


174 

Birth Stones . 

195 

Fur. 


179 

The Language of Flowers 

197 

HOME 

STUDY OF ART 


Home Study of Art 


201 

Does Early Marriage Help or 


Oil-color Painting .... 


206 

Hinder? . 

231 

Water-color Painting 


208 

Wives Who Have Helped Their 


China Painting. 


210 

Husbands. 

238 

Pottery. 


214 

Girls — Now and then .... 

247 

Painting on Silk .... 


224 

The Highest Type of Girl 

252 

Painting on Yelvet 


225 

If I Were a Girl Again . . . 

254 

Modeling in Clay and Wax 


227 

Middle-Aged Women and Sue- 




cessful Endeavor .... 

265 


PERSONAL HYGIENE 

Anatomy.' 

The Muscles. 

Digestive System. 

The Circulatory System . 

The Nervous System. 

The Respiratory System 
Care of the Skin, Hair, Teeth, 
and Nails. 

PREMONITORY 

The Cry . 

Respiration. 

The Pulse. 

The Temperature ...... 


272 

The Sick Room. 

. . 300 

274 

Heat. 

• • 305 

276 

Ventilation. 


280 

Care of Food . . ... 

• • 3 ° 8 

283 

Employer and Nurse . 

. . 309 

291 

Hints on Nursing .... 

. . 310 

295 

The Family Physician 

. . 311 


SYMPTOMS OF DISEASE 


3 H 

Posture 

3 i 5 

The 

Tongue. 

3 T 5 

The 

Urine . 

3 l6 

The 

Skin . . 


317 

318 
3*9 
3 T 9 















































TABLE OF CONTENTS 


Xlll 

HOME MANAGEMENT OF COMMON DISEASES OF CHILDREN 


PAGE 


Respiratory Diseases .... 320 

Sore Throat.322 

Coughs .323 

Snuffles.323 

Mouth Breathing.323 

Chronic Catarrh.324 

Tonsillitis.324 

QT in sy . 3-5 

Croup.325 

True Croup.326 

Bronchitis.327 

Pneumonia. 327 

Diseases of the Digestive Sys¬ 
tem .32S 

Indigestion.328 

Biliousness.330 

Thrush.331 

Hiccough.331 

Vomiting.332 

Constipation and Diarrhea . . . 333 

Skin Diseases.336 

Prickly Heat ........ 336 

Tooth Rash.337 


PAGE 


Skin Diseases— Continued 

Hives.337 

Ringworm.33S 

Stings.339 

Eczema.340 

Warts.340 

Chilblains and Frostbites . . . 341 

Frostbite.342 

Fever Blisters or Cold Sores . . 343 

Boils.343 

Moles.344 

Shingles.345 

Birthmarks.345 

Contagious Diseases.346 

Chicken-pox or Varicella . . . 346 

Measles.347 

Scarlet Fever.348 

Mumps .349 

Whooping Cough.349 

Diphtheria.351 

Self-Preservation and First Aid 

to the Injured.352 

The Family Medicine Chest . . 363 


































XV 


/ 


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 


T his new-work holds an original and unique position in the world 
of books. While it is literature in the highest sense, yet its lit¬ 
erary excellence is subordinate to its practical usefulness. 

It was designed to vie with romance in interest, and to amuse; 
but, at the same time, to instruct. Its purpose is to broaden knowl¬ 
edge and to aid in the development of character. While not a text 
book, it covers the fundamental principles of every phase of human 
endeavor. It is a standard reference work upon all subjects of cur¬ 
rent interest, and is superior to encyclopaedic publications in that all 
information upon a given subject is together and not divided 
among a number of volumes. Facts are best thrown into their proper 
perspective when they are placed logically among other facts on the 
same subject. In biography a man should be studied with due regard 
to the times in which he lived, or to the subject in which he was 
particularly eminent. The convenience of the reader is much greater 
under this plan. One is often deterred .from following up the study 
of a subject, such as art, by the difficulty of handling a number of 
volumes, as well as by the uncertainty of knowing where to look for 
the subject, character, or point sought. This overcoming of the 
broken, disconnected manner of treating subjects is a point of very 
great value to the student or reader, and one will be found follow¬ 
ing a subject far beyond the immediate curiosity of the moment with 
sustained interest. 

The books form a reading, working library, designed for the 
amusement and the practical use of men and women of all ages and 
in all walks of life. From its pages, the business man — both the 
seasoned veteran and the youth just starting — will receive guidance 
and inspiration, as in it, commercial leaders and financiers recite their 
experiences and observations. To those interested in political devel¬ 
opment and public honors is given the benefit of advice and sugges¬ 
tions by many of the foremost public men. To parents, to young 
men and to young women, there is inspiration in the views of highly 
successful men and women in business, in the professions and in the 


XVI 


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 


trades, who treat upon the selection of desirable occupations, a sub¬ 
ject of supreme importance—since in the unsuitability of occupation 
lies the cause of the majority of failures. The articles for women 
contain valuable information and the views of authorities upon such 
important subjects as Motherhood, the Home Training of Children, 
upon Scientific Housekeeping, Social Usages, Dress, etc. Its articles 
upon Literature in all its phases, and upon Art, are highly instruc¬ 
tive and fascinating to the reader. Its historical and biographical 
sketches are intimate reviews of famous men and great events. Its 
educational features are designed for the benefit of parents and are 
quite comprehensive, including child culture, training in useful arts, 
etc. It covers the important points in many fields of endeavor and 
of common interest, including such diversified subjects as Oratory, 
Journalism, Physical Culture, Pastimes, Sports and Games, Physiology 
and Pathology, Natural History, and the Sciences. The entire work 
is carefully indexed enabling instant reference to each subject, and 
besides the special articles which constitute the body of the work, it 
also contains a vast amount of general information and important 
statistics. 

The library exists as a result of the interest manifested in it 
by the eminent men and women who have contributed to and 
made it. Not only are the most renowned authors and poets 
of the day, the most eminent scholars in their several departments, 
and the highest authorities upon all subjects, represented, but men 
who have risen to great fame and fortune in the financial, commer¬ 
cial, and industrial world, who have never before been induced to 
enter upon literary work, have here, for the first time, fully contrib¬ 
uted from their practical experience to the upbuilding of this monu¬ 
mental work. Each master of his business, or profession, or art, 
writes in these volumes as he would talk, upon the practical subject 
which he has made his own. These are not pedantic theorizings by 
text-book professors, but real and vivid facts told by men who know. 
In other words, this library, which has been brought down to the 
very moment of printing, is a work pulsating with human interest, a 
work of great practical value, and indispensable as a guide book and 
reference work. 


I 


HOME DEVELOPMENT. 




T 


/ 


THE AMERICAN HOME 



T here are no happier homes on earth than ours. It is said that a 
happy country has no history. This is more true of homes than 
of nations. We hear much of divorces; yet they occur not more 
than once in a thousand marriages. Only the seed of discord will 
germinate and grow into a weed that will destroy the home. 

The ideal home, especially if there are children, is to be found in 
the country rather than in the city. The woods and fields 
give physical strength and stamina, a clear brain, a 
strong will and, usually, good morals. But the 
city develops virtue to its full fruitage. A 
strong - and true man or woman is more use¬ 
ful in the city than in the country. The 
influence of each is greater. The rough 
gem is cut, so that it glows and glis¬ 
tens. In the busy centers of human 
struggle and activity a man is found out, 
and he finds himself out. He reaches 
his level, be it high or low. 

To speak personally, I have lived thirty- 
seven years in the country, and forty 
years in the city. Both lives have their 
value — the country for gathering in forces, the city for putting them 
out in the interest of our fellows. 


But wherever they may be situated, I see no degeneracy in Ameri¬ 
can homes. The divorces are merely the driftwood on the surface of 
home life. They in no way represent or reflect the clear depths. 

Let a young man begin right by marrying the right woman, and by 
marrying her early in his life, and his home will be a great blessing. 

Robert Collyer. 


A t the present time, pessimists are making a great deal of capital 
out of what they are pleased to call the deterioration of 
American home life, which, they affirm, is evidenced in the 
weakening of family ties, the breaking up of the privacy and sanctity 
of home, the increase of divorce and kindred evils, which are de¬ 
picted in lurid colors by these frightened moralists. Particular stress 
is laid upon the modern institution of the apartment house, women’s 
clubs, and the different attitude which woman now holds to society, as 

i—i 

b 



2 


THE AMERICAN HOME 


powerful factors in the disintegrating influences at work in the 
home. 

Such apprehension is needless. If there is one subject about 
which more nonsense has been talked than about any other, it is that 
of the apartment house. The modern apartment house, with all of its 
scientific, sanitary, and labor-saving improvements, has reduced the 
drudgery of housekeeping and home-making to a minimum, and has 
increased the comfort and general well-being of the family in a pro¬ 
portionate degree. In the detached home, under the old conditions, 
the life of the wife and mother was a ceaseless round of toil, with 
no time for recreation, mental culture, or social intercourse. Her hori¬ 
zon was narrow, at best. 

The wisest and broadest-minded sociologists tell us that we are 
going to have a perfect social or home life just in proportion as we 
cooperate and bring science to our aid. The modern apartment house 
is a move in this direction. What it needs to complete it is a large 
restaurant where people can take their meals together, if they de¬ 
sire, and a great common recreation, or living room, where all can 
assemble in the evening for lectures, music, games, conversation, 
dancing, and general social intercourse. How much better and more 
exhilarating this would be than the solitary, monotonous life which 
many, especially women, lead in separate homes! What a relief from 
the old dullness and drudgery! 

As to the pitiful cry that family affection is decreasing, that is 
even more senseless than the apartment house wail. Men and women 
will love each other, love their children, and be loved by them in 
turn, no matter what happens. You might as well talk of the animal 
deserting its young, of the bird in the tree forsaking its unfledged 
little ones, because of a great thunderstorm or some other convulsion 
of nature, as to say that social upheavals or changes weaken or des¬ 
troy human affection. None of these convulsions now sweeping over 
society will change what nature has made unchangeable,— love. 

In the material world we have positive and negative electricity; 
the centripetal and centrifugal forces balancing each other. If these 
forces were thrown out of equilibrium for five minutes, we should 
have material chaos. So, in the moral world, we have the two diverse 
elements complementary to each other, the masculine and the femi¬ 
nine; and the perfect adjustment of these two great forces is as 
necessary to the preservation of the order of the moral world as the 
balancing of the centripetal and centrifugal forces is to the mainte¬ 
nance of order in the material world. 

The reason conditions are not as harmonious in the moral world 
as they should be is that these forces have not been, are not, in 


THE AMERICAN HOME 


d> 


perfect equilibrium. The feminine has been unduly depressed, and 
disorder has resulted. When they stand in a relation of perfect 
equality — when, as Tennyson expresses it, we have — 

(< Two heads in council, 

Two beside the hearth, 

Two in the tangled business of the world, 

Two plummets dropped for one, to sound 
The abyss of science and the mind, )) — 

then only shall we have the ideal society and home. 

Another cry is that the large family no longer exists; that woman’s 
growing independence will lessen population. No doubt it will; and 
we shall have fewer idiots, lunatics, and criminals to be burdens on 
the state. A great deal of cheap sentiment has been indulged in re¬ 
garding the large family. I think it is a wrong to the child and a 
wrong to society to bring into the world more children than the 
parents can comfortably provide for and educate; the average man 
and woman cannot do this for more than two or three,— four chil¬ 
dren at the most. 

As to the increase in the number of divorces being an evidence 
of the weakening of home ties, I think it is quite the 
contrary. I believe it is due to the growing independence | 
of woman and her recognition of what is due to her as 
the mother of the race. Her new dignity and self- 
respect will not allow her to maintain relations which 
can never be productive of anything but degrada 
tion and misery for herself. She knows, too, that 
the -influence of unhappy relations between the 
parents will act most disastrously upon the children. 

There will probably be some abuses, but, on the 
whole, facility in obtaining divorce will result in 
strengthening all true relations and weakening all 
false ones. 

In short, I believe that many of the things be¬ 
moaned as evils, including the apartment house, the 
woman’s club, and less stringent divorce laws, are 
heralds of the good time coming — the ideal society 

and home of the twentieth century. Elizabeth Cady Stanton. 



I s the American home deteriorating? I think we are rapidly drift¬ 
ing away from the old, tender home life of the past, and substi¬ 
tuting for it a more exciting and varied mode of existence, a 
more intense and highly colored life, but a life less satisfying. If 
this is to be regarded as an evil, then, undoubtedly, home life is 


4 


THE AMERICAN HOME 


deteriorating among the great middle class of America. It requires 
time for men and women to adapt themselves to a new order of 
things; and, while actual unhappiness in the family cannot be charged 
to these altered conditions, I do think they are responsible for the 
weakening of home ties. The new order is, perhaps, better for the 
woman and worse for the man. The husband is no longer the cen¬ 
tral power in the home, around which everything else revolves, and 
the wife is not so wholly dependent as she was. 

Apartment, hotel, and club life are, I believe, among the principal 
influences in the weakening of home ties, and perhaps greater than 
any of these is the growing desire of women for a wider field of ac¬ 
tion than that bounded by the limits of a home. I believe in higher 
education to the broadest possible degree of culture, for women as 
well as for men, but I am not a very strong advocate of what, in 
public parlance, is termed a (< careerfor women; for I think that 
in seeking and finding a career, as women do now, they give up a 
great deal in the way of that tender family life that meant so much 
in the past. As a general rule, the woman who leaves the home to 
follow a public career must lay many sacrifices on the altar of grati¬ 
fied ambition. 

Club life among men, on the one hand, and the growth of inde¬ 
pendence among women, on the other, tend to make marriage less at¬ 
tractive to both sexes than it once was, and hence to a great extent to 
do away with home ties altogether. The bachelor finds all the creature 
comforts of life at his club and marriage ceases to be a necessity; 
while the young woman, at least in some instances, is so enamored 
of her career that she is not willing, even though she love a man, to 
give it up for the less varied and more confining life of the home. 
I do not think the increasing number of divorces has anything to do 
with the deterioration of the home. There are cases in which divorce 
is not only just but righteous. I think it the cruelest thing in the 
world to refuse to grant a divorce to two people • who may be com¬ 
mitting murder in their hearts, and violating the most sacred traditions 
of the home. I do believe, however, if it were more difficult to get 
married, divorce would be less frequent. In England, the marriage 
laws are much more stringent than they are with us. The simplest 
way to get a marriage license there is to go to a registrar’s office 
and make formal application, but the sun must set twice on the 
application before the license will be granted. Even this forms a 
slight safeguard against marrying in haste and repenting at lei¬ 
sure, for the man and the woman must think at least two days 
about what they are going to do, which is not always the case in 
America. 


THE HOME 


5 


English home life among the middle classes is, I think, superior to 
ours. The Englishman’s home is still his castle; and, instead of living 
in apartment houses and hotels, the English family clings to the 
separate home of its fathers. The English woman, too, has less craving 
for excitement and change than has her American sister. She is more 
reposeful. She is content to be simply wife and mother, as were her 
mother and grandmother. She moves contentedly in her (< sphere.* 
The husband is still the sole power, to which all the family is content 
to bow. But, when everything has been said on either side, neither 
the American nor the English woman suffers by comparison. The 
American woman is, and always will be, the brightest ornament of the 
home; and, if it is not happy under the altered conditions, it is 
largely man’s fault. Mrs. Frank Leslie. 


THE HOME 


T he growth of civilization has been commensurate with the growth 
of the family ideal, with the recognition of the family as the 
foundation of the state. 

The sentiment of home life is comparatively modern, but to find 
the first homes the student must go back to the cave-dwellers, to the 
primitive abodes of prehistoric peoples. Home to them was the fis¬ 
sure in the rock, the hole in the ground, to which they might creep 
when worn out with warfare or with the day’s hunting. The age of 
building came centuries later, being preceded by the nomadic period, 
when men lived in tents and moved from place to place to find pas¬ 
ture for their flocks and herds. The growth of the family ideal was 
meanwhile apparent in certain nations and among certain peoples, pre¬ 
eminent among them the Chinese, who, perhaps of all nations, first 
conceived the sentiment of home life and home ties, and who carried 
this conception to such length that the result was ancestor-worship, a 
veritable religion, with the family as its pivot. 

Among other peoples the recognition of home, and of what it im¬ 
plied of family union and obligation, was less keen, or of a different 
form. The patriarchal system of the Jews was a conspicuous exam¬ 
ple of the self-consciousness of the family, but it implied obligation 
only to the living. Among the Anglo-Saxons the family was like¬ 
wise the unit of political organization, but the home in the modern 
sense was unknown to them. Although the Greeks had homes and 
family ties, the sentiment of home and family life was, as a rule, 
lacking among them. The real home of the social Greek was not 
the house where his wife sat spinning among her handmaidens, but 


6 


THE HOME 


the portico, or the open square, where keen-minded men discussed 
philosophy and politics, and where bright-eyed boys looked on and 
listened. 

Among the Romans the love of home was more highly developed, 
the sense of the importance of the family life was keener. But it was 
not until the birth of Christianity that the sentiment of home life 
was felt by the European peoples. In one sense, Christianity created 
the home by placing the first duties and obligations of men there and 
not in the market-place. Yet after the first hundred years of Chris¬ 
tian development, the growth of the home sentiment was retarded by 
the ascetic ideals which crept into the Church, inclining its members 
to believe that the state of celibacy was more honorable and more 
pleasing to God than marriage. In consequence, men abandoned their 
family ties and fled to the deserts. Monasteries and convents were 
founded. The Middle Ages brought forth a society warped by this 
conception of the highest duties of life. 

Chivalry itself was not founded upon the affections of the family, 
but upon mystic and unreal passions. The exigencies of the times 
produced hoihes, which could scarcely be called such if measured by 
modern standards. The feudal lord dwelt in his castle, with perhaps 
a hundred dependents, who sought shelter within its stone walls from 
the (< violence of enemies. * The peasant dwelt in his hovel, being 
little better lodged than the animals. The fortified towns were crowded 
to overflowing; and to the majority of the inhabitants their most con¬ 
genial home was the market-place, or the street before their door- 
sill. Because human life was of so little value, because the dangers 
to society were so great, people lived more in common. The separa¬ 
tion, the differentiation which separates family from family in modern 
life, were then unknown. The family, indeed, existed, but home life 
was subordinate to the life of the burg or the castle. But as the 
feudal ideal passed away, and with it the monastic ideals of the 
Middle Ages, the home came into greater prominence, and the senti¬ 
ment of family life began to assume its modern importance. 

With the Renaissance came a flowering of family dignities and 
honors, especially marked in England and in Italy. In England the 
ideal of the home was most clearly developed, and received, perhaps, 
its most beautiful illustrations. In Italy, the dignity and importance 
of families as powerful factors in the state received the greatest 
emphasis. The homes of the Medici, of the Borghesi, of the D’Este, 
stately palaces still standing, are embodiments in marble of this 
spirit. 

In the century which has just passed, the whole conception of home 
and of family life has become at once more simple and more com- 


THE HOME 


7 


plex than in any previous period of the world’s history—more simple 
because it has been freed from the ideals of political power which are 
not possible in a democratic age, even in countries where class-divi¬ 
sions are recognized; more complex because the sense of moral respon¬ 
sibility in the family is keener than ever before. The home and the 
family are regarded as a training school for citizenship, for the 
cultivation of all those virtues upon which the welfare of society is 
founded. The genius of the age is social, but it is a socialism which 
makes the family, and not the individual, the unit of society. In Eng¬ 
land, in Germany, in Italy, in all the countries of Europe, the home 
is the bulwark of the nation. The attempt of France in the Revolu¬ 
tion to establish the claim of the individual above that of the family 
only ended in the greater glorification of family life. 

The American people has been called a homeless nation, by those 
to whom a home implies a permanent dwelling-place. The opening 
up of a new continent, the ever westward movement of American 
civilization, the evolution of an agricultural into a commercial nation, 
and fhe consequent growth of great cities,— all these causes have pre¬ 
vented the foundation of homes as permanent dwelling-places. But 
the home-spirit and the spirit of family life are stronger, perhaps, 
because of this nomadic element in American civilization. 

The Englishman of rank is linked through his ancestral house to 
his remotest ancestor. The American is separated from his grand¬ 
father by, it may be, a score of houses, representing an evolution from 
poverty to riches, or vice versa. His dwelling one year may be in a 
city flat, the next in a suburban cottage, the next on a ranch or a 
farm; but these changing conditions are not, of necessity, fatal to the 
home-spirit. This spirit in its essence is the sense of moral responsi¬ 
bility toward the persons who make up the domestic circle. This 
sense should be keenest in the mother of the family. American 
women are not without it, but it is too often subordinated to that 
responsibility whose chief care is material things — opulent housekeep¬ 
ing, the preserving of appearances, the effort to have a certain style 
and state in the daily domestic round. 

These ideals of living, however worthy, should not overshadow 
those greater ideals, which found the happiness of the family upon 
gentle manners, chivalrous conduct, that aristocratic sense of obliga¬ 
tion which flourishes nowhere better than upon republican soil. 
Courtesy throws a rose-light upon the most arid facts of daily exist¬ 
ence. It provides that sense of romance in human relations so 
necessary to counteract the prosaic effects of intimacy. It is the 
subtlest and most stimulating flattery, since it assumes the presence 
of gentle elements in other people. 


8 


THE HOUSE 


Yet it is of no value unless sincere, and to be sincere, courtesy must, 
first be cultivated in the home. Just because the members of a house¬ 
hold know each other well, they should safeguard their intercourse with 
the entire array of the minor morals. For courtesy in its essence is 
not formality, but the recognition of, and respect for, the personal dig¬ 
nity of others. 

The tendency of Americans as a nation is toward the omission of 
Courtesies which in Europe are considered necessary to social well¬ 
being. The confusion of American life is partly responsible for this 
omission; but the root of this negative evil must be looked for in 
American homes. The habits of obedience, of respect for elders, of 
consideration for others, are sometimes wholly unformed. In conse¬ 
quence, the child emerges from his father’s house with many virtues, 
perhaps, but crude, assertive, and ungentle. 

The greatness of the American nation was due in part to the <( plain 
living and high thinking }) of the New England households. Its fu¬ 
ture greatness should be built upon the high breeding which is possi¬ 
ble in the homes of both rich and poor, and which implies self-possession, 
self-control, and the kindly spirit. 

THE HOUSE 

T he choice of a house depends largely upon the circumstances of 
the family which is to occupy it. The occupations of the sev¬ 
eral members of the family, their incomes, their tastes, must be 
taken into account. As a rule, the location of a house should suit 
the convenience of the father, its interior arrangements the conven¬ 
ience of the mother and of the family. The father should decide how 
much time he can afford to spend in going from his home to his 
place of business, and whether it is better for him to live in the city 
or the country. If he prefers to reside in town, the matter of choos¬ 
ing a home becomes very complex. 

In New York, and in the majority of the large cities, great wealth 
is required to own or to rent an entire house. People of moderate 
means must content themselves with a flat or with an apartment. 
In (< A Hazard of New Fortunes,® Howells describes the trials of a 
Boston family, hunting an apartment in New York — their encoun¬ 
ters with janitors; their consternation over dark rooms, and over 
closets dubbed bed-rooms. Their early hopes and their final despair 
reflect the experiences of thousands of families. 

The flat or apartment is usually depressing to the spirits. It 
looks crowded before there is a piece of furniture in it. The deco¬ 
rated ceilings, corpulent plums in the dining-room and hot-colored 


THE HOUSE 


9 


flowers in the drawing-room, are suggestive of plush and of weary 
Philistine dinners. The bed-rooms suggest stuffy dreams, and the 
kitchen seems made for a little gehenna of heat and bad temper. * A 
penitential servants’ room squeezed into a corner, and opening on 
darkness, is the last weight on the conscience of the prospective 
housekeeper. 

But even a flat has its possibilities; it can be made to look home¬ 
like upon compulsion. To produce this home-like effect, it is well, 
as a beginning, to secure a flat which has never been lived in, and 
which has not been papered or (( decorated. }) The decorated ceiling 
is an abomination. An arrangement may be made with the agent by 
which the family intending to rent the flat may choose the wall-papers. 

Furniture purchased especially for a flat produces a much better 
effect than the promiscuous furniture which might do duty in a large 
house. In furnishing the flat, the first object is to produce an effect 
of spaciousness. This can be done by carefully economizing every 
inch of room. Box couches and chiffoniers are better for the bed¬ 
rooms than beds and bureaus. The dining-table should be circular. 
Divans built into the corners of the drawing-room are cosy in effect, 
and, by doing away with a certain number of chairs, increase the ap¬ 
parent size of the room. Tables are not desirable, nor thick hang¬ 
ings, nor many ornaments. The chairs should be small and light in 
design, and not many in number. Shelves for holding books can be 
built against the wall, and save the space of heavy bookcases. The 
whole effect should be as light and free and spacious as it is possible 
to make it. 

A flat should not be chosen which has dark sleeping-rooms, nor 
should a servant be assigned a dark sleeping-room. Flats facing 
south and west are warmer in winter and cooler in summer than 
those which face east or north. The higher the flat, the purer the 
air, and the greater the amount of sunshine; but, unless there is an 
elevator, the good effects of air and sunshine may be counterbalanced 
by the fatigue incurred in climbing the stairs. 

Choosing a home in the country or in the suburban town is a far 
less difficult matter than choosing a home in the city. • Space and 
freedom belong to country living, and should on no account be sacri¬ 
ficed; better a small house with large grounds, than a large house 
with but little ground. The dweller in the country should have a 
house with a broad porch and a garden; otherwise he is no better off 
than in the city. 

The cultivation of the garden should be a labor of love shared by 
the entire family. No one who has read (< Elizabeth and Her German 
Garden w can fail to feel the charm of working among flowers. Works 


TASTE IN FURNISHING. 


T O 



on gardening have become very popular and should be owned by 
every family dwelling in the country. Every country house, 
however small, should have a little porch or conservatory, in¬ 
closed with glass and facing south, where the garden plants 
may flourish through the winter. 

The house should face east and south, or south and 
west, and should stand on high ground commanding, if 
possible, a view of the surrounding country. A central 
hall or living-room is desirable in a country house; or a 
small reception-room opening into a large library, which may 
also serve for a general sitting-room. The bed-rooms should 
be large and airy, with broad windows, framing the land¬ 
scapes outside. The ideal country house differs in many 
respects from the city house. It should be low and broad, not high 
and narrow; it should be made for comfort, not show. 


TASTE IN FURNISHING 



I ndividuality of taste is more pleasing in the arrangement of the 
appointments of the home, than the most elaborate copies of the 
house furnishings of more pretentious homes. The first thing to 
be considered is how much outlay can be expended in adornment, 
and the next is how to obtain the most satisfactory results with 
that amount. 

Cheap imitations are never desirable, 
and show a lack of refinement in mat¬ 
ters where taste is required. If one 
must practice economy in furnishing 
his house, let it be in quantity, not 
in quality. There are at the pres¬ 
ent time so many really beautiful 

things to choose from, some of 

« 

which are both fine and inex¬ 
pensive, together with the great 
possibilities which can be accom¬ 
plished by the handiwork of women, 
that there is no reason why the cottage 
ment should not be made attractive 
like, as well as the home of the 


or apart- 
and home- 
possessor of ample 

means, who can indulge each fancy ^ as it arises. 

The newest designs in furniture and decoration are not always 
the best. Novelties in both branches appear each season, until it 
becomes a difficult matter to choose among the great number offered 










THE HALL 


I I 

for inspection. The purchaser who possesses good taste avoids all 
startling and extravagant effects, and selects only that which har¬ 
monizes consistently with the other furnishings of the home. The 
desire to finish a room within a certain period of time leads many 
into the grave error of buying a great deal of furniture at once, in¬ 
stead of purchasing article by article, and thus making the home an 
expression of the owner’s individuality. 

Of later years there has rapidly grown a desire for more uncon¬ 
ventional and less formal treatment of the interior of houses, but this, 
if a certain fitness is preserved throughout, should add to, rather than 
detract from, their artistic beauty. The fashion of creating a series 
of rooms furnished and ornamented after those of foreign countries, 
destroys a full harmonious effect. Those styles of decoration, if trans¬ 
ferred to our own homes, demand both correct representation and 
suitable setting to demonstrate their full beauty and worth. 


THE HALL 


T he hall, even though but a passageway, should receive especial 
attention in its appointments, as it is the first room entered, and 
consequently leaves an impression on the mind which adds to, 
or detracts from, the beauty of the other rooms. In the 
modern houses, the reception-halls are of such generous 
dimensions that there are many opportunities for de-„ 
veloping artistic effects in the furnishings. Nor are 
the smaller, less pretentious hallways entirely devoid 
of possibilities in pleasing effects. 

In the selection of wall decoration, panels are the 
most popular style in wall-paper, woodwork and tapes¬ 
try, or tinted walls. Burlap is an excellent substitute 
for tapestry, and makes a safe and satisfactory wall 
covering for a hall in neutral tints, or in dull reds, 
blues, or greens. China matting or canvas, which is 
much like burlap in texture and appearance, may be 
obtained in several desirable shades, and is inexpen¬ 
sive. It is a simple and pleasing method of wainscot¬ 
ing, which can be made more elaborate by painting the panels in 
some delicate design. It is, however, safer to leave the plain surface, 
which can be finished with a handsome molding, the width of which 
must depend upon the height of the walls. 

The ceiling should be light in color, with very little, if any, deco¬ 
ration, unless the reception-hall is a large room. Where it is not 
















DRAWING-ROOM OR PARLOR 


I 2 

practicable to follow the inclination in selecting the material one’s 
taste suggests, it is always possible to find neat, effective styles in 
wall-paper which are inexpensive, and a good substitute for the more 
costly decorations. 

A few good pictures on the wall are a pleasing addition to the 
furnishing of the hall. They give a homelike appearance to the house 
that will be appreciated the moment the outer door is opened. These 
pictures should be plainly framed, and the subject of the engraving or 
water-color should be of general interest. It is better to have one 
good engraving than half a dozen inferior pictures. 

Hardwood floors are found in nearly all of the houses recently 
designed. These floors can be highly polished, and need only a few 
rugs which harmonize with the walls in the prevailing tint. Where 
a carpet is preferred in the hall, it should be of some neutral tint, 
with conventional figures in subdued colors. Draperies hanging in 
the doorways should match the prevailing tint, or combine contrast¬ 
ing colors. The furniture of a hall which is used merely as a pas¬ 
sageway must necessarily be very unpretentious. If possible, banish 
the old-time hat-tree to the end of the hall. A small table and one 
or two high-backed chairs are generally all that the space allows in 
the way of furniture in the small hall. 

In the square reception-hall, you may gratify your taste in the 
matter of furniture to a greater extent. In addition to the high- 
backed chairs, there may be a comfortable old-fashioned sofa with 
inviting sofa pillows in colors to match the draperies. Two large 
armchairs and a handsome hall-table complete the furnishing. 


DRAWING-ROOM OR PARLOR 

T he word Parlor, which at one time conveyed the idea of the best 
room in the house, has been almost entirely superseded in dwell¬ 
ing-houses by the more dignified name of drawing-room. The 
fact that the word Parlor is now used in various lines of business — 
those’ devoted to the care of the hair, complexion, etc., has brought 
about this disuse of the word, and the adoption of the more English 
term for the <( best room of even a modest house. 

In furnishing the drawing-room, above all things avoid stiffness of 
effect. A large rug or carpet, harmonizing with the prevailing tints 
of the walls, should be selected. The polished hardwood floor with 
handsome rugs is undoubtedly to be preferred to the carpeted room, 
though much more difficult to keep in good condition. In the selection 
of furniture for the drawing-room that is in daily use, avoid the 


DRAWING-ROOM OR PARLOR 


l 3 



purchase of showy, useless pieces. The most expensive furnishings 
are usually found in the drawing-room, but there should not be too 
marked a difference between this apartment and the others. 

There are many houses in which the elaborate decoration 
of the drawing-room is achieved only through the sacrifice of 
much that is needed for the adornment of the sleeping-rooms. 

The furniture should be in keeping with the size and shape of 
the room, and should be chosen with a view to comfort, 
as well as to artistic effect. There is such a variety of style 
in furniture to-day, that it is not difficult to make a choice 
suited to your means. 

Several easy chairs, one or two small sofas, a small 
reception chair, and two or three others of odd design, 
are more desirable than the complete suites. There is 
a large variety of fancy tables from which to choose. 

The present taste is for quaintly carved mahogany or 
rosewood, but many pretty tables are made of less costly 
woods. The size of your center table must be in keeping 
with the size of the room; if the latter be large, two or 
three small fancy tables will add to its attractiveness. 

They may be used to hold flowers, books, or pretty pieces of china. 

The wall covering should be light and dainty, and the paper, or 
other material, as rich as can be afforded. If inexpensive, let it be 
as simple in design as possible. The pictures should be fine engrav¬ 
ings or etchings, or photographs from the old masters. Pictures are 
indicative of the taste of the owner, and for this reason should never 
be purchased by the wholesale, nor hurriedly. Oil paintings should 
be omitted from the collection, unless really fine work can be af¬ 
forded. 

Massive gold-leaf frames are not so popular at the present time 
as they were a few years ago; they should be used only as a setting 
to oil paintings. Lighter frames, which form a graceful finish to the 
picture without being a conspicuous part of it, are more in vogue and 
are comparatively inexpensive. 

After having selected your pictures, it is well to consider the art 
of hanging them. To hang and group pictures properly is not within 
the ability of everyone. A good eye for distance, straight line, and 
harmony of grouping are essential requirements. A few general 
principles may be kept in mind which will tend to assist the amateur 
in picture hanging and grouping. A room may be made to appear 
less high by lowering the picture molding. The space above may be 
filled with plaster or metal bas-reliefs. Those pictures conveying an 
impression of space or distance, such as landscape or marine views, 






DRAWING-ROOM OR PARLOR 


14 

should be hung on a level with the eye. Definite subjects, such as 
figures, heads, and floral designs, may be hung low or high. Harmony 
of coloring and style should be observed; for instance, a very rich 
oil painting will detract from a pale water color, or a pronounced fig¬ 
ure piece is likely to weaken the effect of a delicate etching, or pen- 
and-ink sketch. One of the most important matters to be observed 
in the hanging of a picture is to have the proper light strike it. 

By skilful arrangement, frameless paintings, etchings, engravings 
and photographs may be effectively used in any but the most formal 
apartments, such as drawing-room and hall. An irregular grouping 
of sketches, in imitation of the decoration of an artist’s studio, gives, 
in some cases, a much better effect than docs a uniform arrange¬ 
ment. 

Mounting-cards and mats may be obtained in a number of differ¬ 
ent shades of green, red, buff and gray, and these make artistic back¬ 
grounds for sketches, or for prints of heads or figures which may be 
attached, with paste, by the two upper corners. Unframed pictures 
may be secured to the walls by means of the brass-headed <( thumb 
tacks * to be purchased in any art-material shop. A set of pictures 
framed alike may be grouped, or placed one below the other. 

Perhaps nothing in a house adds so much to the general good ef¬ 
fect as do the pictures. Expensive paintings, etchings, and engravings 
may be out of the reach of the householder of modest income, but 
the excellent reproductions of fine works now to be obtained from 
any art dealer, possess much artistic value and are worthy of a place 
in any home. Handsome bric-a-brac, china, bronzes, curios, pretty 
statuettes and vases are now sold at prices to suit even a light 
pocket book, and when chosen with a discriminating eye, and with 
careful reference to their harmony with the general character of the 
room, they add an invaluable finishing touch to the whole. 

Mirrors are always in favor; they should not, however, find a place 
in the drawing-room unless of fine quality and handsomely framed. 
The old-fashioned colonial mirrors, in one or three sections, are very 
desirable for drawing-room or parlor decoration, and can always be 
found in the antique shops. 

Cabinets, either for wall fastenings, or made to stand upon the 
floor, are excellently adapted for holding curios and objects of art. 
Inlaid Turkish and Syrian tabourettes, octagonal-shaped low tables, 
chairs, divans, easels, pedestals and screens are to be had in innu¬ 
merable shapes and designs. Foot-rests are as welcome in a drawing¬ 
room as is the inevitable down pillow. 

Candles and lamps should, when possible, be used in preference to 
gas or electric lighting, as their light is infinitely softer and more 


THE DINING-ROOM 


*5 


effective. Dark papers and dark draperies absorb an immense amount 
of light, and one can manage with half the quantity of artificial light, 
if a reasonably cheerful tone prevails in the general decoration of the 
room. 

THE LIBRARY OR LIVING-ROOM 

T he custom of uniting the offices of several rooms in one large 
apartment is becoming more general “each year, and to-day a 
library may serve also as music-room, study or living-room. 
Warmth and comfort should be the keynote in the decorating and 
furnishing of the library, and a personal, rather than a general, taste 
may be followed in the arrangement of books, family 
portraits and individual possessions. In the treatment of 
the library walls, we are permitted much latitude. Book 
cases — when a structural part of the room — may be ar¬ 
ranged on all four of its sides, fitting in recesses and 
ranging from four to six feet in height. The wall 
above the shelves is covered with reference to the wood 
used; the material may be canton flannel, heavy felt pa¬ 
per, tapestry or embossed leather, in rich full tints. The 
ceiling should be of a light shade of the predominant 
color of the wood work and wall-covering, or may be 
paneled in wood or with cross-beams. The hard-wood 
floor, oiled, painted or stained so as to be easily cleaned, 
should be covered with a large art square or with centei 
rugs. Small rugs — Indian or Oriental—may be laid about 
before fireplace, couches or window-seats. 

The library is the place for family portraits, oil-paintings, old en¬ 
gravings and for a general commingling of many schools and subjects 
of art. The window and door draperies of a library should be strong 
in color and firm of texture. Inner wash curtains in ecru tints are 
more desirable for sitting-rooms than are those of white material. 
Library chairs should be large and comfortable. The center table 
should be large and of substantial build. A lounge should also be 
provided, on which may be heaped cushions harmonizing with the 
color scheme of the room. 



THE DINING-ROOM 


T here are people in this busy world who, looking upon the hour 
spent at table as so much time lost, would, were it not for the 
necessity of sustaining life, leave it out of the day’s program. 
They eat their meals hurriedly and in silence, without giving a thought 
to their surroundings. But to the large majority of home-loving 


THE DINING-ROOM 


16 

families, the dinner hour is one of happy reunion, when the members of 
the family may chat over the events of the day, with the peaceful 
consciousness that they can lay aside its busy cares and enjoy the 
restful hours of evening. 

The dining-room, for this reason, as well as for others, should be 
one of the brightest and most attractive apartments in the house. 
Where economy must be observed in furnishing the dining-room, 
its appointments should be selected with great care, so that both furni¬ 
ture and all minor details will harmonize with the walls and wood¬ 
work, and also with the shape and size of the room. 

If the sunshine has access to all parts of the room, a dark green 
and straw-colored matting, with a handsome design in conventional 
figures, is one of the most effective floor-coverings you can select. 
Two or three rugs scattered about the room add to its appearance; 
but we would advise the sparing use of small rugs in a dining-room. 
If the floors are of hard wood, highly polished, or stained, one large 
rug of shaded green and oak, with a dash of color interwoven, is 
very handsome. If green is not a favorite color, dark blue, or 
any rich tone which the quiet taste may fancy, and which is in 
keeping with the other furnishings of the room, will answer the pur¬ 
pose. 

The furniture of the dining-room should consist of a sideboard, 
extension-table, and chairs. A small side-table and one of the pretty 
corner china-closets with beveled glass front, add greatly to the at¬ 
tractiveness of the room, as do also window-boxes of well-kept flowers 
and ferns. In choosing pictures for a dining-room, it is well to avoid 
those subjects which represent dead game or fish. These have long 
been accepted by many people as peculiarly appropriate for dining¬ 
room decoration but they are really in very bad taste. 

In selecting the furnishings for your table, fine napery and deli¬ 
cate china and glass are more desirable than an abundance of showy 
silver. The family silver 'should always be chosen with a view to its 
usefulness, never for vulgar display. 

Where the matter of expense does not interfere with one’s choice, 
there are several methods of wall treatment suitable for a dining¬ 
room. In one instance, the field was hung with heavy felt paper of a 
warm golden brown, the woodwork was of antique oak, the panels of 
the doors and shutters of a lighter shade of brown than the general 
surface. The frieze was relief ornament on a yellow ground, the or¬ 
nament in two shades of brown. The dado — there should always be 
a dado in a dining room — was of wainscoting. The floor, to follow 
out this scheme, was of hard wood, partly covered with a large East¬ 
ern rug in tints of blue and brown. The curtains and covers for the 


THE DINING-ROOM 


17 


window-seat (which were the only textile fabrics in the room) were of 
blue velours, in a pattern of golden chrysanthemums. 

Wainscoting is admirably adapted to a dining-room, and not infre¬ 
quently is carried up to a wide frieze, from which it should be sepa¬ 
rated by a shelf for holding jugs, platters, china and glass, of various 
patterns. 

Embossed leather papers are often used with good effect in the 
dining-room. The walls of this apartment should never be hung with 
tapestries, silk, or similar stuffs. The general woodwork should be 
somewhat darker than the walls. The sideboard and mantel may be 
made to harmonize with the decoration by being built with reference 
to the dado line, and with that of the frieze. To preserve the archi¬ 
tectural effect, the tops of the sideboard, mantel, and doors should 
continue on a level with the frieze rail, presenting an unbroken line 
on which ornaments may be arranged. 

When the sideboard is not a structural part of the room, it may 
be of various designs. Perhaps the most pleasing and satisfactory of 
all styles is the Colonial. The lines are simple and graceful, har¬ 
monizing well with most furniture. Colonial sideboards may be had 
in various woods, those of mahogany being the most desirable. There 
are also the old Dutch dressers, with decorative copper hinges and 
handles; but these require special harmony of environment. As a 
rule, the solidly handsome buffet, no matter how plain, is preferable 
to the more ornamental styles for the arrangement of plate and glass. 
An artistic touch may be added by placing copper or brass sconces 
for candles, which, when lighted, bring out the beauties of the glass 
and silver with delightful effect. 

The furniture should harmonize with the general character of the 
room. Dining-tables of polished wood, carved chairs, side-tables, 
closets and cabinets for china and glass, are to be found at all prices 
and of all qualities. The round table, for those who have a dining¬ 
room large enough for its accommodation, is the most serviceable and 
the prettiest, as it not only seats guests to the best advantage, but 
displays the table service and decoration better than does any other. 

The foot-rest should not be omitted from the dining-room. The 
chairs should be strong, broad, and comfortable; those covered in 
leather being altogether the most satisfactory. Closets for choicer 
pieces of china or glass are eminently suited, to the dining-room. 
Those with mirrored backs that form a background for the display of 
each dainty article are preferable. A pretty conceit is a cabinet or shelf 
devoted to pieces of one kind, such as jugs, teapots, steins, and other 
bits of ware in pretty or odd designs. If there be no-room for a cabinet, 
a corner cupboard or some hanging shelves will serve as a substitute. 


THE SLEEPING-ROOM 


i £ 



THE SLEEPING-ROOM 

T he simpler the arrangement of a sleeping-room, the better. The 
furniture, especially, should be characterized by simplicity and 
lightness. Anything that will harbor dust, absorb impurities, 
or prevent perfect circulation of the air, should have no place in a 
sleeping-apartment. Heavy curtains or hangings are particularly ob¬ 
jectionable in a bedroom. In case of illness, one may be confined to the 

sleeping-room for days, and there should be, therefore, 
no opportunity for the lodgment of odors, microbes 
or any form of insect life. 

Physicians advise against ponderous furniture and 
heavy enveloping curtains; many would even banish 
wall-papers from the bedroom. A substitute for the 
last is found in paint, varnish or cotton hangings. 
Painted walls, plain or with delicately stenciled orna¬ 
mentation, are admirable; they provide effective dec¬ 
oration, and perfect sanitary conditions, and require but 
H little care. Many, however, object to this painted sur¬ 
face as appearing cold, and prefer walls covered plainly 
with some material made for such purposes. 

A New York firm has lately imported some entirely new Japanese 
silk hangings for wall decorations. They are made of soft, loosely- 
woven silk fibers, and somewhat resemble Shikic silk. Some of them are 
backed with paper to give them stiffness. They may be either 
mounted on the wall, as is wall-paper, or draped on slender wires run 
through top and bottom. Cretonnes of delicate pattern are some¬ 
times stretched on walls in the place of paper, producing a very sat¬ 
isfactory result. A room paneled in hard wood two-thirds of the 
way up, and then finished with a frieze of cretonne, presents an 
attractive appearance. The ceiling may be either painted, or simply 
whitewashed, or tinted. It, is preferable that a bedroom should be 
decorated in light tints, but it must be remembered that white pro¬ 
duces a chilly effect, and is to be used only in combination with tints 
of a warm hue. 

The window and bed draperies perhaps contribute more than any 
other feature to the general effect of the sleeping-room. Swiss mus¬ 
lin curtains are much used and may be quite simple or very elabo¬ 
rate, according to the general character of the furnishing. Cretonnes 
and crepes are a little more substantial, but equally pretty; they may 
be obtained in a vast variety of colors and designs. Lace or muslin 
curtains are beautified by having a foundation of silk or cambric, 
harmonizing with the general color of the room. 











THE SLEEPING-ROOM 


19 


For the outer covering- of beds, there is a large variety of pretty 
and inexpensive spreads. The most popular covers are those which 
can be laundered, and if one is skilled in needlework or can afford 
to pay for the skill of others, the handsomest are in heavy linen 
elaborately embroidered by hand. These have wide borders, with 
graceful vines and flowers; the center may be in flowers or in any 
dainty conception of the owner’s fancy. 

For a young girl’s room, pretty covers and bolsters can be made 
of silk or of lustrous cotton, such as sateen or silkaline, covered with 
lace. The color of the lining should match the prevailing tints of 
the walls and furnishings. This room should be light and as dainty 
as possible, and it can be furnished with a modest outlay. A brass, 
or white enamel bedstead, a dressing-table covered to match the bed¬ 
spread, a willow rocker, two small enamel chairs, and a couch with 
a removable cover of dainty, figured cretonne, in which the prevail¬ 
ing color is that selected for the linings of the curtain and bed 
covering, will furnish this room charmingly. 

The couch may be covered in heavier plain material of neutral 
shade, with gay pillows of silk or cretonne, and if the top is made to 
open with hinges, the box should be lined carefully so that it can be 
used to store away clothing not in daily use. This is especially use¬ 
ful to women and young girls who live in apartments where they 
have limited closet room. 

The beauty and attractiveness of the bedrooms depend but little 
upon the depth of one’s purse, for exquisite effects may be obtained 
here with comparative^ little outlay. For an unpretentious bedroom, 
nothing is prettier than plain pine furniture, enameled. The enamel 
may be bought ready for use. By following the directions and using 
care, any one can paint a pine chamber set. Colored paints, unless 
harmoniously combined with white and gold, or white and bronze, 
are not so desirable on the whole as white paint. The walls, floors 
and draperies of a room containing such pieces of furniture, may be 
of any. color, but delicate shades are more in harmony with white 
and pale tints. 

Besides the ordinary furniture of a bedroom, there are several de¬ 
sirable additions that lend a touch of individuality to this part of 
the house. Among these is that delight of the feminine soul — a 
cheval mirror. In lieu of the cheval glass, a long mirror in ward¬ 
robe or bureau should be substituted in a woman’s bedroom. 

No bedroom is quite complete without the addition of a lounge 
and pillows. A screen or two, a revolving table for pitcher and 
glass, for book and candle, all combine to contribute to the comfort 
as well as the beauty of a sleeping-room. A guest-room should also 


20 


THE BATH ROOM 


contain a writing-desk, fully equipped with paper and envelopes, pen 
and ink and stamps, and a basket with sewing-materials. Pictures on 
the walls are not desirable. Like the reception-room, the guest-room 
should be impersonal in character. 


THE BATH ROOM 

T he proper furnishing and care of the bath room are matters of 
vital importance. This apartment may be a source of comfort 
and a preserver of health, or an unpleasant and unhealthful 
place that is likely to foster disease. To insure cleanliness, the room 
must be properly furnished. Carpeted floors and papered walls should 
be avoided, as they absorb impurities from the atmosphere and do 
not admit of the free washing that is essential to cleanliness. 

To those whose purses admit, there is nothing to equal the pretty 
tiled floor and walls, which may be white, delicate blue, a dainty 
green or any favorite color. Yet for the room which now has and 
must retain its wooden floor and plastered walls, two or three coats 
of good paint will serve the purpose admirably. A rug or two is 
necessary for comfort, and can be put out of doors for frequent air¬ 
ing; cotton rugs may be purified by washing. 

The tub or closet should never be boarded around, but should be 
exposed on all sides, and all plumbing should be open to the air. 
Materials suitable for bath tubs have been fully considered in con¬ 
nection with bathing. Of whatever material, the tub should be thor¬ 
oughly cleansed after each use. 

Each morning and evening the water-closet should be freely 
flushed, and the basin should be washed with sand soap. If by care¬ 
lessness or accident any bits of hair, burnt matches, lint, rags, coarse 
paper or anything that can possibly obstruct the pipes finds its way 
into the basin, the only safe way is to pick it out. A seemingly 
very little thing in the pipe may call for the services of the plumber. 
The hand basin must be well washed and the pipes flushed. Any 
lint that collects about the strainer in the pipe may be removed 
with a small wire hook, or with a shoe buttoner, kept for the purpose. 

The attention which the floor needs will of course vary from day 
to day. Once a week, tub and hand basin should be washed with 
hot water in which some washing soda has been dissolved, and a 
generous quantity of the hot solution should be poured down all the 
pipes. If the tub is of zinc it should be cleansed with whiting and 
ammonia, rinsed well and wiped dry. Much less scouring will be 
necessary if the tub is carefully dried after every cleaning. Any 
ordinary stains on marble, porcelain or enamel may be removed by 


THE NURSERY 


21 


the use of sand soap. For old stains that will not yield to this treat¬ 
ing, muriatic acid should be used. 

There should always be an ample supply of towels and wash-cloths 
in the bath room. They may be kept in a small cupboard or on a 
set of shelves with a curtain arranged in front. Huckaback, crash, 
and Turkish toweling for bathing purposes, divide favor with one an¬ 
other so that it is desirable to have some variety. Whatever the 
material, try to be generous enough with it to make towels of con¬ 
venient size; scrimpy bath towels are a trial and a nuisance, poorly 
compensated for by the small saving of cost or of work in laundering. 

Wash-cloths may be of any of the toweling materials, of stockinet, 
or pieces of old table linen. The knitted ones are liked by many. 
A towel rack is necessary for the proper drying of towels and cloths. 
A good quality of soap will of course be provided, and every one has 
his own idea as to the most satisfactory kind. 

In some bath rooms hot wrnter is not provided during the warm 
weather. Generally this is a great mistake. Nearly every one wishes 
a warm or a tepid bath at intervals, while many feel a chill from 
a quite cold bath at any time. With the many devices for heat¬ 
ing water by gas, coal oil and wood alcohol, it is easy to make 
provision for a comfortably warm bath at any hour of the day or 
night. Proper heating arrangements are, of course, an absolute neces¬ 
sity to health and comfort. There should be, besides, a small oil or gas 
heater that can be used at pleasure on chilly mornings and evenings, 
when heat is not required in the entire house. 

In no part of the house is proper attention to ventilation more 
necessary than in the bath room, and it is well to have some arrange¬ 
ment by which there is a constant change of air, the size of the open¬ 
ing to be adjusted, of course, according to changes of temperature in 
the outside air. 


THE NURSERY 

T here is no room in the house more important than the nursery. 
It is the child’s first home, the spot which represents the world 
that he has so recently entered, and much depends upon his 
earliest impressions. For that reason great care should be taken in 
making his surroundings not only comfortable, but bright and happy. 
Even an infant is susceptible to the influence of cheerful or gloomy 
environment. 

The furniture of the nursery should be simple and substantial, not 
easily destroyed. Rugs that may be shaken daily are to be preferred 
to carpets; and a painted, oiled or hardwood floor is recommended 


o o 


THE NURSERY 



for cleanliness. The wall surface may be dealt with in several ways, 
but preference is given to the nursery papers, on which are illustrated 
the fairy tales and Mother Goose melodies so dear to the hearts of 
little children. They are possibly not so esthetic as painted 
walls, or those of some floral or figured designs, but they 
possess the merit of interesting children — an important con¬ 
sideration in a room where so many of their hours are to 
be spent. 

The fire-facings may be of picture tiles descriptive of 
some scriptural or historical events, which will furnish 
subjects for endless conversations, and will open up a won¬ 
derful field of information. Upon the walls should be 
hung only those pictures which appeal to the interest 
and emotions of these little lords and ladies of creation. 
Let the subjects be cheerful and attractive, and above 
all, artistic. The training of the eye and the imagina¬ 
tion to a sense of beauty cannot be begun too early. 
Copies of many masterpieces, colored or in black and white, can be 
obtained at little expense, and, when framed in the light woods so 
much in vogue, form the daintiest decorations for a nursery wall. 

Windows should, be provided with moderately dark shades, to shut 
out glaring light; and with white curtains that may be easily laun¬ 
dered. Window-seats, which may also be lockers, serve as recepta¬ 
cles for childish possessions. Shelves amd drawers built into the 
recesses of the walls are absolutely necessary for the storing away of 
books and playthings. 

It is never well to permit children to sleep in the rooms in which 
they spend the day; but when limited space makes this a necessity, 
the selection and furnishing of beds and cribs are of the utmost im¬ 
portance. Each child should have a separate bed; those of brass or 
iron, with woven wire springs, are not only the most hygienic, but 
the most attractive in appearance. The mattress should be of a good 
quality of curled hair, and if the pillows also be of hair, they will be 
found less heating to the little heads than those of feathers. The 
room should be thoroughly aired before putting the little ones to bed 
each night, and while they are taking their morning walk. 

It is important that the location of the nursery be where it will 
have plenty of sunlight and good ventilation. If your house is too 
small to admit of a room being set aside as a nursery, let the chil¬ 
dren spend all the time possible out of doors, or in a bright, sunny 
room where their earliest impressions of life will be cheerful. It is 
said, and we believe truly, that the first imprint on the child’s mind 
will never be entirely effaced. 


THE KITCHEN 


23 

As to the simple nursery furniture: A long - , low table with rounded 
corners, and little chairs with straight backs and with seats sufficiently 
high to permit the children to sit around the table with their picture- 
books and kindergarten work, should be placed where they will not 
interfere with the daily romp. A strong, wide couch with small pil¬ 
lows, both couch and pillows covered with bright, washable goods, 
is a desirable addition to the nursery, and affords both a resting-place 
for tired babies and a fine field for pillow fights and acrobatic feats. 

Nurse should have a comfortable rocking-chair, a small sewing- 
table, and a basket for her mending. The rockers in a nursery should 
never have sharp points, with which small feet and legs may come in 
contact, bringing their owners to grief. The rockers of both the 
large and the small chairs should be so curved over in the back that 
they will not be a source of annoyance and danger to the children 
when they are romping. 


THE KITCHEN 


W hen the housekeeper has the selection or planning of the house 
which is to be her home, the first part of the building she 
looks at critically is the kitchen. This room should be as 
attractive in its way as the drawing-room, and if economy must be 
used in furnishing any part of the house, the kitchen should be fav¬ 
ored, as it requires more attention to detail than the best 
room in the house^. Upon its construction and arrange¬ 
ment depends the comfort of not only the housekeeper 
and servants, but of the entire family. 

Everything should necessarily be secondary to 
cleanliness and utility, but it is essential that the 
kitchen should be pleasant to the eye as well as con¬ 
venient. A bright, cheerful kitchen with plenty of 
sunlight and fresh air will insure better service 
than the small, dark, badly ventilated rooms often 
dignified by the name of kitchen in some of the 
houses built solely for the purpose of renting. 

The woodwork and walls of the kitchen should be 
such that they cannot readily harbor insects. Walls 
of hard plaster that can be cleaned with soap and water 
are the best. This may be painted and varnished so that it will 
resist dirt, and will look bright and new when cleaned with a damp 



cloth. 

An iron sink is to be preferred to any other, and can be made to 
look well by coating with enamel paint. Woodwork around the sink 






24 


THE KITCHEN 


is particularly objectionable, as it is sure to be a favorite hiding-place 
for the persistent water-bug, against which nearly all housekeepers 
have to battle when living in rented houses. 

If the kitchen is large enough to admit of movable cupboards, 
they are desirable when provided with glass doors so that their 
contents may be readily inspected. If the back and the remova¬ 
ble shelves be covered with oilcloth, they will be more easily 
cleaned. 

The range or stove should be a good one, and, if possible, should 
be placed where the light will reach it from all sides, so that 
there will be no difficulty in cleaning every part where soot and 
ashes accumulate. In most rented houses, the range is set into the 
chimney, so that there is no choice in placing it, but in these cases 
the back is solid, and the stove opens entirely from the front and top. 
The subject of the range or stove is one of importance because it is 
impossible for the best of cooks to prepare a palatable dinner when 
the fire refuses to burn properly. 

The pantry, opening into the kitchen, should have tin boxes ar¬ 
ranged along one of the lower shelves for flour, sugar, meal, salt, etc. 
A large, closely covered box for bread, and one or two smaller ones 
for cake, are a part of the necessary kitchen furnishing. 

The kitchen should have gas jets, or other lights, so placed that 
everything in the room can be seen easily without carrying a lamp 
from one part of the room to another. If oil lamps are used, brackets 
to hold them can be placed against the wall. The floor of the kitchen 
should be covered with linoleum or heavy oilcloth, unless the floor is 
of hard wood, and the housekeeper prefers having it kept bright by 
frequent scouring. 

If your kitchen is large enough, it is wise to have one comfort¬ 
able wooden or wicker chair in addition to the regular hard-bottomed 
chairs that belong to the kitchen furniture, so that the tired worker 
may snatch a few moments of rest at intervals during the day when 
she may not leave the kitchen to seek it elsewhere. The work will 
seem lighter, and better service will be rendered. 

The pots and kettles should have a place out of sight. Hung on 
hooks under the lowest shelf in the tin-cupboard, they will be con¬ 
venient and out of the way. The tables should be so placed that 
one will be near the stove, another near the door leading into the 
dining-room. We are writing of the kitchen found in modest homes. 
In stately houses a butler’s pantry is indispensable, and so are num¬ 
berless other conveniences which are impossibilities to the renters or 
owners of small, unpretentious homes. 

The ice-box should be kept in the pantry or in the cellar. Brooms 


THE LAUNDRY 


2 5 


keep their freshness longer when carefully hung in the cellar-way 
or shed. Tubs and pails not in constant use should be kept on the 
cellar bottom with a little water in them; this prevents shrinking on 
account of dryness, and consequent leaking. 


THE LAUNDRY 

T he wise housekeeper so arranges the work of wash-day that there 
shall be as little waste of force as possible. Wringer, washboard, 
clothes stick, boiler, and an abundant supply of soap, starch, and 
bluing will be at hand, and there will be a generous supply of tubs 
in good condition. 

The first thing to be considered is the water: When hard water 
must be used for washing purposes, care should be taken to <( break,” 
or soften it. As mineral waters differ widely, it is impossible to give 
directions for this process that will serve in all cases. Sal soda, am¬ 
monia, or lime water will soften water that contains carbonate of lime. 
The proportion of the alkali used must be governed by the amount of 
lime in the water. If a large quantity is to be <( broken” at once, 
and there is time for it to settle, quicklime is perhaps the best agent. 
Pour enough water on the lime to cause it to fall to a powder. After 
it is slaked, add water enough to make it like thin cream, and then 
stir into the vessel of hard water. No undissolved lime should be 
allowed to go into the water. The exact proportion will, of course, 
depend on the degree of hardness. The water should then be allowed 
to stand for twelve hours, when the lime will have settled to the bot¬ 
tom, leaving the water soft. 

If sal-soda is used, dissolve it in boiling water; when cold add a 
sufficient quantity of the solution to soften the water. The water is 
softened when the soap used readily makes a lather. 

If the hardness of water is due to the presence of sulphate of lime, 
it can be softened only by boiling. In boiling hard water, for either 
laundry or cooking purposes, an oyster shell or a piece of marble 
placed in the vessel will collect the lime. The shell or marble should 
be scraped and cleaned frequently. 

Proper attention to the breaking of hard water saves soap, labor, 
abuse of the hands, and injury to the fabrics laundered. When a 
chemical analysis of the water is practicable, much experimenting may 
be avoided; but the intelligent housewife will persist in her efforts 
until she has reached a solution of this important question. 

Muddy water, if it cannot be allowed to settle, should be put 
through a canton-flannel strainer. 


26 


THE LAUNDRY 


Opinions differ in regard to mixing soiled clothes on wash-day. 
One fastidious woman, who might be called a (( crank ® on this sub¬ 
ject, keeps a special tub, or a very large granite pan, exclusively for 
napkins and tablecloths, soaking, washing, and rinsing them in it, and 
using the pan for boiling. Her table linen is never placed in the 
common boiler. 

Towels, pillowcases, and sheets are soaked, washed, boiled, and 
rinsed separately from body linen. Handkerchiefs have a small tub 
to themselves for soaking purposes,- and so have stockings. Dish-towels 
are washed and boiled in the same pan as is the table linen, but 
separately. As dish-towels should be scalded and rinsed after every 
dish-washing, they should not be very much soiled in any case. The 
same rule applies to dish-cloths, if such are used instead of the wire 
contrivances and dish-mops which many housewives prefer. There is 
also a wide difference of opinion among housekeepers as to the treat¬ 
ment that will bring best results in the washing of white clothes. 

Probably the most tiresome method is that of placing the soiled 
garments, a few at a time, in the suds and rubbing the dirt loose. 
Some housekeepers soak the clothes over night in cold water; others, 
for a short time in the morning, in the warm suds. Others, again, 
startle the advocates of the other methods by placing the dry, soiled 
articles, when free from stains, into the boiling suds. The one who 
has not tried it usually declares that such treatment will <( set the 
dirt ®; while the one who practises this method cannot be induced to 
use any other. Many housekeepers think that the soaking of clothes 
over night tends to <( yellow * them. Some boil the clothes for sev¬ 
eral minutes, while others protest that to secure the best results,' 
scalding only is necessary. 

If the clothes are to be boiled first, a bar of any good laundry 
soap is shaved, put into the boiler of water, and allowed to dissolve. 
A tablespoonful of kerosene added to the water will aid in dissolv¬ 
ing the dirt, but care should be taken that the water boils before 
any clothes are put into it, else they will be yellowed instead of 
whitened. The cleanest of the white clothes, from which all stains 
have been removed, should be placed in the boiler first and be allowed 
to boil for from fifteen to twenty minutes. Such parts as rise above 
the water in boiling should be pressed down with the clothes stick, 
and all should be stirred a little to aid in loosening the dirt. 

When sufficiently scalded, the clothes are lifted from the boiler 
and put into a tub of cold water. The hot clothes and the water 
that accompanies them heat the water in the tub, and produce a good 
suds; soap is then rubbed on the places most soiled. It may be sur¬ 
prising to find that now little or no rubbing is needed for the cleaner 


THE LAUNDRY 


27 


things. Washed from this water, they receive another scalding in 
clear water and from this they are washed out of a second suds; then 
follows the rinsing water and, finally, the blue water. 

When there are two pairs of hands available, the white clothes 
can be hung to dry much earlier in the day,—thus getting more 
sunshine,— if all of the waters are arranged at once, so that the 
clothes may be taken through each in turn instead of waiting until 
all are washed through the suds. 

If the clothes are to be soaked over night, all the fine things should 
be put in one tub, and the coarser and more soiled articles in an¬ 
other; the table linen in a third. The clothes should be well covered 
with water. In the morning, when ready to wash, the boiler should 

m 

be full of clean, warm suds. Soft soap, or a bar of hard soap dis¬ 
solved in hot water, may be used. All the water in which the clothes 
have soaked should be drained off and the hot suds is then poured 
into the tubs. The cleanest articles should be washed first, and when 
this is done they are wrung and placed in a tub of warm water. In 
this they are well rinsed. Then soap should be rubbed on the parts 
that are most soiled and the clothes are ready to be placed in the 
boiler, which must contain cold water enough to cover them. 

For fine clothes, allow the water to boil up once. The gar¬ 
ments should then be taken out, and should be placed in a tub of 
clean, cold water, from which they are rinsed and put into water 
made slightly blue by means of an indigo bag or liquid indigo. Too 
many of the prepared bluings contain Prussian blue, which has iron 
in it; and this sometimes produces iron-rust spots on the clothes. 
From this water the clothes are wrung, and, after such as need be are 
starched, they are hung out of doors. 

The clothes-lines must be perfectly clean. A galvanized iron wire 
is best for the purpose, as it can remain out of doors without rust¬ 
ing, and needs only to be wiped carefully before being used. If 
rope lines are used, they should be taken down after each wash-day; 
a weather-stained line will often ruin a good garment. 

A good soap is always the most satisfactory for laundry purposes. 
A poor soap is dear at any price. If a considerable quantity of soap 
be bought and the bars arranged so that the air can circulate be¬ 
tween them for a time, they will harden so that less waste will ensue 
from careless use. 

The best of all bleachers is an abundance of sunshine and fresh 
air. If the clothes are left on the line in the sun, even after they 
are dry, they will be the whiter for it. It is well to be cautious in 
the use of washing powders and the various chemical bleachers. 
Many contain injurious substances that whiten, but weaken, the 


28 


THE LAUNDRY 


fabrics. Borax, turpentine, and kerosene are the safest bleaching 
agents. Two tablespoonfuls of ammonia, one of borax dissolved in 
boiling water, or one tablespoonful of turpentine, may be added to 
a tubful, or boilerful, of clothes. Special attention must be given to 
removing stains. Some will be set by hot, and others by cold, water. 
Blood stains are easily removed by soaking and rinsing in tepid soap¬ 
suds before the article is scalded. 

With proper attention to the care of flannels and knitted woolens, 
including stockings, much of the common shrinking and hardening of 
the fabrics may be avoided. Some who have given careful attention 
to the subject prefer to use borax instead of soap, except for delicate 
colors that might be faded by the process. About two tablespoon¬ 
fuls of borax is dissolved in a pail of tepid water, and the garments 
are soaked in this for twenty minutes. They are then washed, pref¬ 
erably with the hands, as rubbing on a board tends to full them. 
The rubbing should be done as lightly as possible. Pressing them 
with the hands and turning them about in the water will remove 
much of the dirt. When quite clean they are rinsed twice in clear, 
tepid water, and dried, if possible, in the sun; otherwise, in a warm room. 

Another method of washing woolen garments, which many find to 
give satisfaction, is as follows: Soak the garments for twenty minutes 
or half an hour in warm suds made with castile soap, or with some 
good soap manufactured especially for the purpose. The soap should 
be dissolved in the water and never rubbed on the articles, as the 
soap in direct contact with flannel hardens and shrinks it. Some add 
a little borax to the suds. Wash with the hands, and if very much 
soiled, wash through another suds, then rinse through two warm 
waters, and dry in the sun or in a warm room. 

When a garment is very much soiled, and the dirt is settled in spots, 
as is sometimes the case, it is well to partially cleanse the spots be¬ 
fore wetting the whole article. Lay on a board the piece to be 
cleansed; take a cloth or soft brush, wet it in warm water, rub it on the 
soap, and then rub or brush the spots. This will greatly facilitate the 
washing, and will save other parts of the garment from unnecessary 
wrenching. 

Ecru or cream-colored curtains or other articles may be washed 
as satisfactorily as white ones. Soak them in clear water, and wash 
clean. If the articles are ecru, boil a little saffron in water, strain, 
and add enough to the rinse water to restore the color to the 
desired shade. For cream color, a very little saffron may be used, or 
yellow ocher may be dissolved in water, and enough of the strained 
solution added to the rinse water to produce the original tint. The 
natural color of linen can be preserved by adding coffee to the water. 


THE LAUNDRY 


29 


Coffee-colored laces can be restored in the same way. Tea is some¬ 
times used to retint laces. 

It is scarcely possible to give the exact proportions of any of 
these materials to be used, but with a little practice, the desired re¬ 
sult may readily be obtained. It is usually the safest plan to experi¬ 
ment with a small piece of the goods, until the right shade is pro¬ 
duced. If this is not practicable, be very careful not to put in too 
much of the coloring material at first, as more can easily be added. 

To wash summer silks, first clean all spots that can be removed 
with chloroform, gasoline, or benzine. Add a teaspoonful of ammonia 
and a little white soap to a pail of tepid water and soak the goods 
for a short time. Then dip it until it looks clean, but do not rub. 

Press the water out, so as to make as few wrinkles in the material 

as possible. Rinse once or twice in water slightly warmed — never 
use hot water for silk — and then hang it in the shade until partly 
dry. With a cloth laid over it, the garment should then be ironed 
until quite dry. Corded silks look richer if pressed on the wrong 
side. China silk may be washed as above and ironed at once, on the 

wrong side. No part of the silk must be allowed to become dry be¬ 

fore ironing; if it should dry before pressing, dampen it again by 
rolling it in a wet cloth. Doilies and centerpieces of silk embroidery 
may be treated in the same way. Use several thicknesses of the 
ironing blanket over the board and press hard on the wrong side 
with a moderately hot iron. The embroidery will stand out and look 
much richer than if ironed flat. 

The satisfactory laundering of colored cottons is an operation call¬ 
ing for much care. Too hot water, the free alkali in some soaps, and 
sunshine, are all ruinous to delicate colors. If soap is used it should 
be of mild quality, and should be dissolved in the water instead of 
being rubbed on the goods. These goods are sometimes washed with¬ 
out the use of soap. They may be washed in starch water instead of 
suds, then rinsed twice in clear water. No other starching is neces¬ 
sary, unless it is desired to have the goods very stiff. 

Starch may be either raw or boiled. Boiled starch is made by 
adding cold water to raw starch in the proportion of one cup of 
water to three-quarters of a cup of starch, and then pouring on boil¬ 
ing water until it has thickened to a smooth mass. Stir this con¬ 
stantly as you pour on the water. Many laundresses add a bit of 
butter or lard not larger than a filbert, and others a teaspoonful of 
kerosene, to prevent the starch from sticking to the irons. A lump 
of spermaceti dissolved in it gives a good gloss to the laundered gar¬ 
ments. A piece of sperm candle may be used for this puipose. All 
starch should be made slightly blue. 


3 ° 


THE LAUNDRY 


On some deeply colored goods the ordinary white starch shows in 
splotches. For such goods, colored starches can be purchased which 
will obviate this difficulty. For some colors, making the starch 
very blue will suffice. Anything starched with boiled starch must be 
dried and sprinkled, before ironing. With raw starch this is unneces¬ 
sary. To make raw starch, allow four tablespoonfuls of starch to a 
half pint of cold water. Collars and cuffs, or anything to be made 
very stiff, should be dipped into this and then well clapped be¬ 
tween the hands so as to distribute the starch evenly. Articles 
that are to be starched by this process should be first dried and 

then dipped into the starch but a short time — certainly not more 

than half an hour — before they are to be ironed. Roll the articles 
in a damp cloth, as this will give better results in the ironing. 

The various prepared starches now so much used, always have 
full instructions printed on the packages. Many of these are entirely 
satisfactory, and are fast taking the place of old methods of starch¬ 
ing for fine articles, and for those that are to be made very stiff. 

It is not necessary to wait for the clothes to dry before using these 
preparations, and the ironing can follow immediately. 

If convenient, fold the clothes for ironing at the time they are 
taken from the line, as the ironing will be easier than if the articles 
are crumpled into a basket and have more wrinkles pressed into them. 
Everything that does not require starch is drawn into shape, lightly 
sprinkled with clear water, folded smoothly, and pressed down into 
the basket. Sheets, pillowcases, towels — everything — will iron more 
easily for being first evenly and smoothly folded. 

To fold a sheet properly for ironing requires two pairs of hands. 
With the right side of the sheet up, let each person take hold of and 
put together an upper and a lower corner of the sheet. This will 
fold the sheet in halves, crosswise, with the wrong side out. Now, 
each holding the two corners in one hand, run the other hand along the 
edges in such a way as to smooth out the selvages. Take hold of the 
corners formed by folding and stretch the sheet crosswise. Then, re¬ 
taining the present hold, gather into the hands from six to ten inches 
of the selvage edges, and stretch again; then another reach of sel¬ 
vages; stretch again, and so on until all of the edges have been gath¬ 
ered into the hands, and all parts of the sheet smoothed by being 
stretched in opposite directions. Next, releasing all but the holds 
of the corners, bring the two corners of one end of the sheet to 
the corners made by the fold, and the corners of the other end to the 
other side of the fold, so that the hems lie right side out against the 
middle fold. The selvage edges are now brought together, making a 
fold in the middle, and another turn brings the selvages to the fold. 


THE LAUNDRY 


31 


Finally, turn the selvage ends of the folded sheet outward and bring 
them to the second or last fold, and turning the first or middle fold 
outward, bring it to the opposite side of the second fold. When 
ready to iron, it will be found that all the hems can be reached with¬ 
out unfolding the entire sheet, and the result will be quite as satis¬ 
factory, with much less labor than if the sheet had been folded length¬ 
wise and then crosswise, as is sometimes done. 

In ironing table linen, the wrinkles left by the wringing process 
can only be removed by thoroughly dampening the articles. The 
irons should be used very hot, but always be sure not to scorch. 
The linen must be ironed on both sides until every thread is perfectly 
dry. Only in this way can the satiny gloss of the damask be brought 
out. If it is merely pressed smooth and left to dry afterward, the 
best of damask will look dull and the satin figures will show but 
dimly. Do not attempt to draw the linen into shape while dry. After 
sprinkling roll it in a cloth or coarse towel. Just before ironing, while 
the starch is soft, the napkins are easily drawn into proper shape. 

Dinner napkins are folded squarely, always with the initial show¬ 
ing. The first fold is made by bringing the selvages together; the 
second by bringing the selvages to the middle fold. Next, the hems 
are brought together, and finally, the hems to the middle fold, with 
the initial on top. 

Handkerchiefs are softer, and look quite as well as if starched, if 
they are made very damp and then ironed until thoroughly dry. 
As with napkins, the first and second folds must be lengthwise of 
the goods, followed by two crosswise folds, so that the result is a 
square. The initial is, of course, on the outside. Towels must be 
folded into three parts lengthwise, and then crosswise at the middle. 

Many kinds of goods can be made to look like new material by 
ironing them on the wrong side. The hems and seams must be 
pressed well again on the right side. This is especially true of corded 
or figured goods, either white or colored, ginghams, and other colored 
cottons. In very hot weather, clothes must not be dampened many 
hours before they are to be ironed, as they will sour, and may even 
mold. In cold weather this work may be done the night before. If 
the sprinkling be properly done, the labor of ironing will be much 
less than if the things have been made either too wet or .too dry. It 
is easy to make the mistake of getting them too wet, and having to 
iron much longer in order to dry them, than would otherwise be 

necessary 

For your ironing outfit you will require a half-dozen flatirons with 
good steel bottoms, a skirt board, sleeve board, and bosom board. 
These boards should be covered, first with an old blanket, then with 


3 2 


CARPETS AND RUGS 


thick, strong, cotton cloth, and finally with a cover or lighter cloth, so 
fixed that it may be removed for washing. It is well to wash the 
flatirons once a month in warm water in which a little lard has 
been melted. This should be done while the irons are warm. Do 
not let them stand day after day on the stove; and be careful not to 
spill water on them, as it tends to roughen them. 

The use of ironing wax or a little Bristol brick, will prevent the 
clinging of the starch to the irons. If irons become rough from 
neglect they should be rubbed on a cloth or paper saturated with 
coal oil. Rubbing the irons on a branch of cedar laid on a board or 
table aids in keeping them smooth. This may be done to advantage 
at frequent intervals during the ironing. If through carelessness or 
accident an article is scorched, lay it in the sunshine. If the fiber is 
not burned this will generally remove the mark. 

Clothes should hang in the air for at least twenty-four hours after 
ironing. Unaired sheets may cause serious sickness. Examine all 
clothes as they are sent up from the wash, and see that all necessary 
mending is done before they are put away. A word may not be out 
of place here in regard to the receptacle where soiled clothes are 
placed during the week. A wicker hamper, allowing circulation of 
air, is infinitely to be preferred to a laundry bag. 


CARPETS AND RUGS 

R ugs have to a great extent superseded carpets, not only in parlors 
and halls, but also in living-rooms and bed-rooms. There are 
sanitary reasons for this; rugs can be beaten, aired, and exposed 
to the sunshine more frequently than carpets. 

At the time rugs first began to displace carpets, the carpets were 
as a rule inartistic. The design of the fabric was at that time in 
decided contrast with the ground; the figures were bold and were 
so clearly defined that the carpet sometimes became the chief adorn¬ 
ment of the room, instead of a neutral background for the things 
placed upon it. Doubtless the introduction of rugs is one reason for 
the recent improvement in the designing of carpets. The manufac¬ 
turers have been forced by this competition to secure artistic design¬ 
ers, and the result is that some American carpets now compare 
favorably with those of foreign make, even though the designs are 
often but copies of the subdued Oriental patterns. 

Mats were doubtless the original form from which carpets and rugs 
have grown by a natural process of evolution. These originated in 
the Orient, where the practice of sitting cross-legged made and still 


CARPETS AND RUGS 


33 


makes them a necessity. In ancient Egypt carpets were used in 
religious ceremonies and also for furnishing the palaces of the 
Pharaohs. They were not introduced into Europe until about the 
beginning of the seventeenth century, when they were brought from 
Persia into France in the reign of Henry IV. In England their manu¬ 
facture was begun about the year 1750, by artisans who came over 
from France. The varieties now in use are almost numberless, the 
most familiar being the Chenille, Wilton, Axminster, Moquette, Vel¬ 
vet, Brussels, Tapestry Brussels, Ingrain, and Venetian. 

The best grade is the Chenille. In this the weft is composed of 
chenille instead of yarn. The pattern is dyed in the chenille and 
nothing shows on the surface of the fabric except the ends of the 
chenille fringe. This carpet is very heavy, soft, and of a luxurious 
appearance. It is manufactured chiefly in Glasgow. 

The Moquette and the Axminster carpets are practically the same, 
the chief difference being that the Axminster is of a slightly better 
grade than the Moquette. They both admit of unlimited variety in 
pattern and color. 

The Wilton and the Brussels carpets are woven alike and of the 
same materials,— that is, with a linen back and worsted surface. 
Wires are inserted between the threads of the warp so that when they 
are withdrawn they leave a series of loops upon which the design 
appears. In the Brussels these loops remain, but in the Wilton they 
are cut open and sheared smooth, leaving an effect similar to that of 
velvet. In the worsted portion of the material of these carpets, each 
color requires a separate frame, five such frames being the limit of 
advantageous manufacture. From this come the grades of this style 
of carpet, called three frame, four frame, or five frame. 

The Velvet and Tapestry Brussels are made like the Brussels and 
the Wilton, with the difference that only one thread of worsted warp 
is used, and upon this all the colors are printed before the carpet is 
woven. That which is cut and sheared is called Velvet, while that 
which remains uncut is called Tapestry Brussels. These manufactures 
were brought into England in 1842, and into the United States soon 
afterward. Owing to some difficulty about the patents, the industry 
did not flourish at first, but now more Tapestry carpets are used 
than any other kind except ingrains. 

Ingrain is the only carpet which was originally made exclusively 
of wool. To-day much of the ingrain is part cotton. The threads 
are dyed before weaving, and it is the interweaving or <( ingraining w 
of the colors which give it the name. These are two-ply or three- 
ply, according to the number of the intermingling layers. The name 
ingrain is now applied only to the (< two-ply, w the other being 

3 


CARPETS AND RUGS 


'4 

S.S I 

distinguished from it as <( three-ply. ” The latter is chiefly of historic 
interest, for it is practically out of the market to-day. Of the ordi¬ 
nary grades of carpet, the cheapest is the Venetian, which is used 
almost. exclusively for stairways. 

The purpose of the carpet and the rug is almost precisely the 
same. The difference is chiefly mechanical. When the fabric is 
made for one particular room, it is fitted to that room and is made 
as a rug. When manufactured in large quantities for the market, it 
is evidently a matter of economy to make the carpet in a narrow 
strip, which may be cut to any length, and widened by sewing strip 
to strip. The rug is still made in one piece, but it is not necessary 
to fit the rug to the room. It is common to use large numbers of 
comparatively small rugs, which may be arranged at pleasure. Be¬ 
cause of this mechanical difference, rugs are made richer and more 
elaborate than carpets. A good rug is suitable for almost any room, 
while the changing of a carpet from one room to another involves 
both labor and expense. 

Rugs are divided into so many classes and bear so many different 
names, that one is at a loss sometimes to know just what to select. 
Although most of our rugs come from the Orient, the rug district is 
confined to a comparatively limited area. The Turkish, Persian, and 
Daghestan are the prominent Oriental weaves, and from these a great 
variety of others borrow their principal characteristics. 

The Turkish rug is a large square, with thick tufts of red and 
blue in two or more shades on a greenish ground. They are very 
little used in this country. 

The Persian rugs are the handsomest, richest, and most valuable 
of the Oriental family. They involve a great deal of fine detail and 
are very ornamental in patterns of graceful figures, flowers, and birds. 
The Persian rugs are much more finely woven than either the Turk¬ 
ish or Daghestan rugs, and are exquisite in their marvelous coloring. 

The Daghestan rugs are not so valuable nor so fine as the Per¬ 
sian, but very much superior to those of Turkish weave. They are 
chiefly designed in geometrical patterns in a great variety of well- 
arranged shades. 

All these rugs are made from the wool of the sheep of Asia 
Minor, and are colored with vegetable dyes by primitive methods. 
Other rugs come from Japan, and from the Indian districts, but they 
are much lighter in quality and are composed of few colors. 

The Navajo blankets are much in vogue at present. These 
beautiful fabrics are made by the tribe of Indians whose name they 
bear, for their own use. The <( pale-face w does not use them as 
blankets, however, but as rugs. In expense they cost from five to 


WINDOW SHADES AND DRAPERIES 


35 

ten per cent of the price of Persian rugs, and in beauty they are not 
to be compared with them. 

A handsome rug is an expensive luxury. It may, however, be 
classed among the products of the fine arts, like painting and sculp¬ 
ture. It never wearies the eye or mind, but grows continually more 
satisfying. Time tones down, mellows, and improves the colors- 
Such a rug will last a long time, improving with age, and destined 
to be a valuable inheritance. 


WINDOW SHADES AND DRAPERIES 


T here is perhaps no more important consideration in the furnishing 
of a room than that involved in the treatment of its windows. 
How often we enter an apartment that lacks nothing from a 
decorative standpoint except the tasteful selection of its window shades! 
In too many cases, they form a disturbing element of the whole effect. 
For this there is little excuse, as shade cloth is made in a count 
less variety of colors and tints, and the proper shade may easily 
be found in any well-selected stock. 

All window shades that show from any one point of view 
from without should be of the same shade. Nothing is more 
inartistic or displeasing than a variety of window coverings 
seen from the exterior of the house. Neutral tints are pref¬ 
erable where the shades must be of one color throughout the 
home, as they harmonize successfully with almost all interior 
decorations. 

At most of the best upholsterers it is possible to obtain hangings 
for window curtains of many materials. Some of the cheaper kinds 
of cretonne, jute, and cotton hangings are not only artistic, but ex¬ 
tremely moderate in price; there need be no difficulty in providing 
good and tasteful curtains for any window. In choosing draperies, 
great care should be exercised as to the colors and general appearance, 
as most patterns change very greatly under gas and candlelight. 

Lace and soft silks are the proper curtains for drawing-rooms. Very 
often only heavy lace curtains are used. These are hung in straight 
folds to the floor. When silks are used, they should not conceal more 
than a third of the lace curtains. Silk outer curtains may be either 
hung straight or festooned over the poles. 

Nottingham lace curtains are the least expensive, and are pretty 
and serviceable, but better suited to the upper windows of the house. 
Swiss lace curtains are equally desirable, and come at the same 
price. Irish point lace curtains are very popular, and may be had 



36 


TAPESTRY —DECORATIVE WOODS 


in a variety of grades. Madras curtains, though not as much used 
as formerly, are excellent for both wear and color effect, their soft 
tints blending well with almost any style of furnishings. 

Among silks, and silk and cotton materials, the China and Indian 
silks are the cheapest. They make graceful and appropriate draperies 
for windows that are not too large. The silk and cotton damask cur¬ 
tains now offered for sale, come in rich designs and are made up 
with or without linings of soft contrasting silks. Ecru curtains are 
more desirable for sitting-room and dining-room, than those of white. 
Simple muslin curtains should be used in bedrooms and bathrooms, 
as they require frequent changing. 


TAPESTRY 

- • 

A marked increase in the use of tapestries for upholstery has taken 
place in this country within the past generation, the material 
being employed, as in its original usage, for covering the walls 
of apartments, and also for covering the backs and seats of furniture. 

The better tapestries of modern weave are the product of several 
famous factories. The Aubusson tapestry is made in the city of Au- 
busson, and is used principally for wall-hangings and curtains. The 
greater part of the tapestry offered for sale in France is said to be of 
this make. In general, old designs are copied, or modified to suit the 
size of the rooms for which the hangings are ordered. 

The Cluny tapestry is a strong, thick cloth of wool and silk, made 
in England. Gobelin tapestry is produced at the establishment of 
that name in Paris. The designs are very complicated, and are pro¬ 
duced in brilliant and permanent colors. 

There are many imitations of the famous tapestries, some in 
printed worsted cloth, for chair, table, and sofa coverings; but unless 
good tapestry can be obtained, it is better to restrict oneself to less 
pretentious materials for hangings and upholstery. 


DECORATIVE WOODS 


A mong the woods most used in the furnishing and decoration of 
houses, are mahogany, rosewood, satinwood, oak, cherry, maple, 
cedar, butternut, walnut, and pine. 

Mahogany is a very hard wood, susceptible of high polish and re¬ 
markable for its beauty of grain and its great durability. It is of a 
reddish brown color and is largely used in the making of fine furniture. 

Rosewood comes principally from Brazil; it is used chiefly in ve¬ 
neers for pianos, cabinets, tables, etc. The wood is fine and hard, 


THE GROUNDS 


37 


and of a dark reddish brown color, streaked with black. When first 
cut, the wood gives out a faint odor of rose, from which characteris¬ 
tic it derives its name. 

Satmwood .— This, tree is a native of India. Its wood is very hard, 
fine, and durable, and possesses a luster like that of satin. It is of a 
yellowish color and is valuable for fine cabinet work and interior 
decoration. 

Oak .— Though a very light wood in weight, oak is sufficiently 
tough and durable to make it extremely desirable for the manufac¬ 
ture of furniture, flooring, house-trimmings, and for all kinds of cab¬ 
inet work. This wood is among the least expensive of furnishing and 
decorating materials. 

Cherry .— There are several varieties of cherry wood used in furni¬ 
ture making and house decoration. That of the wild black cherry is 
highly esteemed. Its wood is light and hard, of a brown or red¬ 
dish tinge that becomes darker with exposure. Cherry wood has 
become scarce of late, so that stained birch is often used as a substitute. 

Maple .— Several varieties of maple are highly valued for their 
wood. Bird’s-eye maple, so called from the small round spots in its 
grain, is much used in cabinet work for fine furniture, paneling, etc. 

Cedar is very valuable, light in weight, straight-grained, durable 
and fragrant. It is used for closets, storage chests, boxes, and flooring. 

Butternut , also called White Walnut, is of American growth and 
bears a strong resemblance in its general appearance to the black wal¬ 
nut, although not so hard and durable. It is susceptible of a fine 
polish, and is largely used in interior finish and cabinet work. 

Walnut .— Walnut wood is not as much used as formerly, and has 
been superseded by other lighter-toned woods. It is heavy, very orna¬ 
mental, and susceptible of high polish; it is of a purplish brown 
when first cut and grows darker with age. 

THE GROUNDS 

rp H E grounds surrounding the town or country house add so much 
| to the attractiveness of its appearance that they should be care¬ 
fully laid out and well kept. A smooth, green lawn, with a few 
flowering shrubs or small trees, is far more pleasing to the e^e than 

one with a number of flower beds. 

Flowers should have a place of their own at the side or rear of 
the house. A climbing rose, a honeysuckle, or a Madeira vine, looks 
well when artistically trained over the veranda; and the brilliant 
foliage plants near its base furnish enough bright color to relieve 
the unbroken green of the lawn without destroying its beauty. 


INCOME AND RENT 


3? 



Fruit and vegetables from your own garden will possess a flavor 
not found in any that you may buy from the greengrocer, and will 

_ _ well repay you for the care bestowed upon 

them. 

In modest city houses, where there are 
no grounds to beautify, one may have 
window-boxes, or small conservatories, made 
by building a frame the length of the win¬ 
dow, extending beyond it in width, and cov¬ 
ered with open wirework. It should have 
a substantial floor and shelves of wood, 
ge the plants along the shelves so that 
the heavier pots will be on the bottom. This 
must be securely fastened and braced with iron 
rods, to prevent its breaking down under the 
weight of the potted plants. If glass be fitted 
into your <( flower cage * late in the fall, you 
may enjoy the fragrance and beauty of blooming plants all winter. 


INCOME AND RENT 


A n important consideration in the selection of a house is its adap¬ 
tation to the circumstances of the family; its suitability to their 
financial and social standing. If the rent is out of proportion to 
the income, it expresses what the family is reaching after, not what it 
has attained. Comfort should be the first consideration; then as much 
luxury as can be paid for with ease, but no more. Every young 
woman in beginning her housekeeping should make the most of the 
means at her command, but should never sacrifice her physical and 
moral well-being to a desire, for display. 

With the majority of families who rent, the amount paid is the 
first thing to be considered. As a rule, people are tempted to ex¬ 
pend too large a part of their income in rent. One fourth is a rea¬ 
sonable proportion, but in the city, one-third is sometimes devoted to 
rent. The income of some families is so small that one-fourth of it 
would hardly allow room for privacy. But if more than one fourth 
is paid, this expenditure should be made up by economies in other 
directions. It is desirable to own one’s home. The combined amount 
of the interest and taxes will hardly equal the annual rent. The repairs 
will be an item, but they will be for the improvement of the prop¬ 
erty, and can be made at the convenience and not at the caprice of 
the landlord. To own a house is a great incentive toward avoiding 
useless luxuries or ephemeral pleasures, that the house itself may be 
adorned or improved. 















SOCIAL USAGES 


39 



















, 







































































41 


THE ART OF ENTERTAINING 



T he complex conditions of American life have well-nigh crowded 
out the sweet, old-fashioned virtues of hospitality. The high 
pressure at which people live is one cause of this sin of omis¬ 
sion ; but a more direct cause is the mistaken idea that hospitality 
implies extravagance, or, at least, a complete change in the everyday 
manner of living. In Mrs. Whitney’s novel 
<( Hitherto ® a household is described, in which 
(( having company }> implied a complete suspen¬ 
sion of the ordinary family life. The members 
of the family held their breath, as it were, un¬ 
til the’ guest had departed. 

True hospitality implies neither undue ex¬ 
penditure of money, nor the throwing of the 
domestic machinery out of gear. The majority 
of persons are inclined to store up their social ob¬ 
ligations, or their hospitable instinct, then to rid 
themselves of the burden in a yearly, or semi-yearly cataclysm, which 
is preceded by dismal forebodings, and followed by exhaustion. 
<( Thank goodness, that’s over! w is not a beneficent farewell to waft 
after departing guests, who, catching the moral contagion, have had 
their own sufferings in attending the forced meeting of social credi¬ 
tors. This kind of entertaining is very common in America; and is 
gone through with in a penitential state of mind which would be 
funny if it were not so disastrous to a wholesome ideal of what 
constitutes true hospitality. It is primarily a state of feeling; and 
unless that feeling is present no genuine hospitality is possible. It 
is the willingness to share a last crust with a friend, to place one’s 
house at his disposal, to break down the barriers raised by formality 
and a sense of ownership, that visitors may feel at home in the most 
literal sense. The best method of making them feel at home is to 
go on in the usual household ways; to share the accustomed meal, if 
it be only potatoes and bread; to give to them in the spirit and in the 
letter, « the freedom of the house.» Hospitality should become a habit; 
and that is only possible when it implies no extraordinary effort. 

Such easy and kindly entertainment is the best possible prepara¬ 
tion for the more formal expressions of the hospitable spirit — the 
dinner or the afternoon tea. The same virtues that make the soli¬ 
tary guest feel at his ease, contribute to the ease of a hundred guests. 
The secret of entertaining a large number of people is to make each 






42 


THE HOSTESS AND HER GUESTS 


guest feel that his individual presence gives a distinct and particular 
pleasure to his host or hostess. The look of profound dejection to 
be seen on the faces of many people at a large reception, arises from 
the feeling of being herded. Man is a dignified animal. The first 
law of hospitality should be the recognition of his individuality. 
This recognition calls for no extraordinary social skill on the part 
of his entertainers; merely for tact, good .will, and a desire to give 
pleasure. The Christian virtues have fuller scope, perhaps, in a 
drawing-room than anywhere else, because the true spirit of hospi¬ 
tality addresses itself to the nobler natures of men. When people 
assemble socially, they must, like the ancient Christians, <( have all 
things in common, J> material and spiritual, or the harmony of the 
gathering will be disturbed. 

THE HOSTESS AND HER GUESTS 

T he virtues of the successful hostess are chiefly negative. Her 
highest skill lies in producing results without allowing her 

guests to see her methods. They find themselves happy, com¬ 
fortable, and at ease, but are not conscious of any effort on the 

part of their entertainer. The hostess who understands her task 
makes it her first rule to give her guests their liberty. This does not 

mean neglecting them. It is a recognition of the fact that there is 

always a certain strain in leaving the freedom of home to become a 
guest in another household; to conform, it may be, to unfamiliar cus¬ 
toms and rules of living. To relieve this strain is the first duty of the 
hostess. It is best accomplished by allowing guests some time each day 
in which (( to get their balance;to go their own ways; to follow their 
own inclinations. A sense of forlorn helplessness is produced in 
guests by an oversolicitous hostess, who maps out every moment of 
their day as if they were children. The successful hostess is always 
mindful of the <( margin of freedom. w She understands the tempera¬ 
ments of her guests, consults their tastes, and entertains them ac¬ 
cordingly. She does not thrust pleasures upon them, but allows the 
day to take its pleasant course, assuming that her visitors have 
enough originality to look, in a measure, after themselves. In Eng¬ 
lish house-parties, the (< margin of freedom w is wide, extending until 
the dinner hour. During the day, the guests are free to follow their 
own devices. 

The duties of guests to their hostess are of a positive nature. They 
should not make themselves a weight on the conscience of hos¬ 
pitality, nor go about with a <( what-next? » expression. Like the 
saint and the sinner, they should live in the present moment, accept- 


INTRODUCTIONS 


43 


ing- and turning to account, whatever situation is uppermost. They 
should allow the hostess liberty to follow her accustomed pursuits; 
should observe the rules of the household; should be never in the 
way, and never out of the way. 

One of the best safeguards of the interests of both hostess and 
guests lies in naming the duration of the visit when the invitation 
is sent. This relieves the guest of the embarrassment of choosing 
the length of her stay; and allows the hostess to make her plans 
for a definite period. 


INTRODUCTIONS 

I t has become the fashion of late years to look upon introductions 
as somewhat solemn and significant ceremonies, not to be lightly 
performed. In consequence, some hostesses make it a rule never 
to introduce their guests to one another — their meeting under one roof 
being thought a sufficient introduction in itself. This custom is not 
native to democratic America, but is imported from England, where 
introductions are supposed to contain a possible element of danger, 
since it never can be known what social advantage may be taken of them. 

Not to introduce guests to each other seems, however, a negative 
way of protecting them from a possible distasteful acquaintance. The 
positive method would be to bring together only persons in the same 
social circle; or those of whose congeniality the hostess could be 
sure, and then make them known to each other. This, however, is 
not always possible at a large gathering. But no hostess should ever 
turn a guest adrift in an assemblage where she knows he has no 
acquaintances. 

In introducing two people, the younger should always be presented 
to the elder, the man to the woman, the less famous to the more 
famous. But even a famous man should always be presented to a 
woman, however young and socially insignificant. The form of in¬ 
troduction should be as simple as possible; and the <( let me present w 
should never be used except when presenting a celebrity. It is suffi¬ 
cient to mention the two names, the more important being mentioned 
first and with greater emphasis. Explanatory phrases, as (< my aunt, w 
«my cousin,are in place and very often furnish a bridge over the 
awkward silence which sometimes follows an introduction. Never 
say (( my friend Mr. Robinson,» nor tell Mr. Robinson that you 
wish him to know your friend. It is taken for granted that you will 
not introduce those for whom you are not socially responsible. Well- 
bred people do not exclaim, (< I am happy to know you, )} or (( I am 
glad to know you.” It is sufficient to repeat the name, and to bow 
courteously. 


44 


CHAPERONAGE 


Young women who wish to be considered well bred will not call 
men by their Christian names, no matter how close the acquaintance, 
except in the absolute privacy of home. The rule holds good in the 
case of men addressing the ladies of their acquaintance. Be punctil¬ 
ious in addressing elderly or prominent people by their proper names 
and titles. If one’s memory fail in regard to a name, be careful not 
to allow the person addressed to perceive your forgetfulness. If one 
must introduce a stranger, it is courteous, if embarrassing, to explain 
your predicament and frankly to ask the name. It is always well, if 
possible, to give people some clue to each other when introducing 
them, in order that they may be more at ease. 

Introductions between young people are much less formal in 
character, and carry less weight of significance. A young man, how¬ 
ever, should never introduce a friend to a young lady without first 
asking her permission. Casual introductions, in a street car or on the 
street, should be avoided because they are unnecessary. A hostess 
should introduce callers one to another, because the majority of people 
would feel more at ease under such circumstances, if properly intro¬ 
duced. Whether a casual introduction justifies future recognition 
depends largely on circumstances. If the two people introduced live 
in the same town, such recognition is well-nigh imperative; but no 
introduction should carry the social obligation farther. Persons can 
exchange polite greetings on the street, or wherever they happen to 
meet, without being obligated to call on each other. 

Letters of introduction should not be given lightly, for a certain 
amount of social obligation is attached to them. The persons to whom 
they are addressed feel called upon to receive the stranger, and to 
invite him within their gates. In presenting a letter of introduction, 
it is better to send it with a card by mail or messenger than to 
deliver it in person. The former method is less embarrassing, both 
to the bearer and to the person to whom the letter is brought. A 
gentleman may, however, convey his own letter of introduction to a 
lady, sending it up with his card. It is scarcely necessary to say 
that such letters should always be unsealed, and should be written 
without a profusion of complimentary recommendations. 


CHAPERONAGE 


T he duties of a chaperon are delegated maternal obligations, deli¬ 
cate and complex in their nature. " According to social usage, no 
young unmarried woman will attend an entertainment outside of 
her own home without the protection of a chaperon. The latter must 
be selected by one knowing her intimately and should be a married 


CHAPERONAGE 


45 


woman, a widow, or an elderly spinster. The chaperon is indispen¬ 
sable at parties, the theater, or opera, or at dances and suppers which 
are given in public places. A chaperon must be vigilant, yet not 
obtrusive in her watchfulness. It is taken for granted that young 
women who move in good society will conduct themselves with de¬ 
corum. When a married woman or widow has been invited to chap¬ 
eron girls, it is customary for all of those who will compose the party 
to call upon her immediately. It is also obligatory to call on her 
first reception day after the party, or if she have no reception day, 
to call within the week. 

In the large cities, gentlemen who give theater or opera parties 
which include ladies, must first secure the services of a chaperon, 
and in sending their invitations they must state that this lady has 
consented to be present. If a gentleman giving a theater party in¬ 
vite his guests to supper afterward, the chaperon acts as hostess of 
the occasion and must be accorded all the honor and deference due to 
her dignity. At dancing parties, the duties of the chaperon are more 
complicated. Those who are thoroughly conversant with correct form, 
will not introduce a gentleman to a young girl without the permis¬ 
sion of her chaperon. It is the chaperon’s prerogative to say when 
her charge shall withdraw from the entertainment, and it would be 
rude for any of her party to challenge this right. 

Young girls often resent the presence of a chaperon, but they 
should be thankful for her protection. Her presence may save them 
from embarrassments, and perhaps from some innocent indiscretion, 
which the social world might magnify into a heinous fault. St. Paul’s 
injunction to (< abstain from all appearance of evil” is rich in both 
earthly and heavenly wisdom. The chaperon exists to guard her 
charges from the appearance of evil. Gossip, particularly if it have 
its source in jealousy, is only too eager to throw pebbles which hurt 
and sting, even though they do not kill. The need of a chaperon is 
not so great in the country as in the city, though sometimes the fa¬ 
miliarity of young people in a small town or village has its own dan¬ 
gers. Picnic parties should always be chaperoned. 

When a girl has passed her first youth, a greater degree of freedom 
is accorded to her, but even then she should be wise enough to guard 
herself from <( the strife of tongues.” In this country, where many 
girls and women are self-supporting, and are obliged to live in a city 
boarding-house, or alone in a studio, they cannot be expected to con¬ 
form to all of the rules which govern a guarded and sheltered girl¬ 
hood. But they should endeavor to be their own chaperons. 

The whole matter of conformation to social usage is summed up 
in the truth that only by obeying society can one become its master. 


4 6 


ENGAGEMENTS AND WEDDINGS 


ENGAGEMENTS AND WEDDINGS 


he parents of a young girl who has become engaged should first 



announce the engagement; such an announcement is never made 


by the friends or relatives of the prospective groom. If the 
engagement is to be a long one, an early announcement is desirable, 
but, ordinarily, within a month or six weeks of the wedding will be 
the correct time. 


It is both foolish and ill-bred for a pair of engaged lovers to give 
evidence of their mutual attachment in public; to dance only with 
each other, and to look bored if obliged to talk to any one outside of 
their rose-circle of enchantment. They should remember that the 
universe is still trundling along, and would continue to trundle even 
though they broke both their engagement and their hearts. It is 
not well to use up all the romance before marriage, but to keep 
some stored away for the inevitable day of prose. 

The wise bride-elect begins her preparations for her marriage 
many weeks, if not months, before the ceremony is to take place. If 
she is (< clever with her needle w she can make many of the articles 
of her trousseau, thus saving expense and being able to exercise her 
individual taste. She should not crowd all of the preparations for 
her wedding into a feverish month of hurry and scurry, but should 
allow at least a week’s margin of repose before the great event. 

It is customary in France for girls about to be married to make 
a week’s retreat in the convent where they were educated. They ap¬ 
proach the sacrament of marriage with prayer and meditation and 
thoughts of God. It would be well if American girls could go into 
some such restful retirement on the eve of their marriage, that they 
might bring calmer thoughts to the solemn ceremony. Too often the 
bride’s mind is occupied with the set of her gown, and the effect of 
the bridal procession, or she is worn out with the rush and hurry of 
the last days. 

It is best that a marriage should take place in church, being pri¬ 
marily a religious ceremony. A church wedding need not involve the 
sending out of invitations, but may be celebrated in the presence of 
the family alone. In the Catholic church, the nuptial mass is some¬ 
times sung; and in the Anglican church, the communion may be cele¬ 
brated. In these cases, the hour of the wedding should be early. 
There is much to be said in favor of early weddings. The bride is 
not worn out by a long day of preparation or waiting; and the wed¬ 
ding breakfast is then really a breakfast. Afternoon weddings are not 
so fashionable as morning weddings, and night weddings should be 
abolished altogether. They have long since ceased to be fashionable. 


ENGAGEMENTS AND WEDDINGS 


47 


Invitations for a wedding - should be sent out from two to three 
weeks before the date of the event. They should be sent to all of 
the friends and relatives of the families of both bride and groom. 
An invitation to a church wedding should be engraved on heavy 
white paper, and should read as follows: — 

Mr. and Mrs. John Everett 

REQUEST THE HONOR OP YOUR PRESENCE AT THE 
MARRIAGE OF THEIR DAUGHTER 

ELIZABETH 

TO 

MR. FREDERICK WINSTON 

AT 

ST. martin’s CHURCH 

on Wednesday Morning, October Tenth 

AT TEN O’CLOCK 


Sometimes cards of admission to the church are also inclosed. If 
there is to be a reception after the ceremony, a reception card is in¬ 
closed which may read thus: — 

At Home 

After the Ceremony 
i 12 Pine Street 

A wedding invitation to the church need not be acknowledged, 
but an invitation to a wedding breakfast or reception should be ac¬ 
knowledged at once. The wedding invitations are sent out at the 
expense of the bride’s family. The bride’s family pays also for the 
decorations of the church, for the music, and for the wedding break¬ 
fast. The groom pays the clergyman’s fees, buys the ring, and gives 
presents to the bride and to her bridesmaids. He also presents his 
ushers with scarf-pins, or some other souvenir. 

At one time it was the custom for the bride to seclude herself 
after the wedding invitations were issued, as if she were in a kind 
of moral quarantine which would end on the wedding-day. But now 
she comes and goes in a natural manner ; and in consequence, (< feels 
more natural when the great event takes place. The prospective 
groom should not monopolize too much of the time of the bride- 
elect during this period. If he is considerate he will understand 
that she will wish to be with her family as much as possible. 

The bridesmaids should be selected from among the sisters, cousins, 
or other near relatives of the bride and groom, and from among the 
intimate friends of the bride. It is desirable to choose the brides¬ 
maids soon after the engagement is announced, that they too may be 
able to prepare at their leisure for the event. An early choice of 


4 8 


ENGAGEMENTS AND WEDDINGS 


bridesmaids has a certain social significance. They form a kind of 
little court about the bride, who for once in her life, at least, knows 
all of the sweetness and none of the sorrows of being a queen. In 
choosing bridesmaids, the bride should remember not to embarrass a 
friend who may not be able to afford an elaborate gown for the oc¬ 
casion. If the bride require that her maids wear very expensive 
dresses she should pay for them herself. The simplest gowns are 
often the prettiest. At one June wedding the bridesmaids were 
dressed in white organdies, with colored silk sashes, and large Leg¬ 
horn hats, trimmed with the same color as that of the sash. At a 
December wedding, the bridesmaids wore white cashmere and carried 
bunches of holly. 

The decorations of the church may be as elaborate as the bride’s 
family can afford. It is customary in the city to distribute the 
wedding flowers afterward among the hospitals. A rehearsal generally 
precedes a church wedding, that each person may know just where to 
stand and where to take his or her place in the procession. The 
best man plays an important part on the day of the ceremony, be¬ 
sides making certain preparations beforehand. He buys the tickets 
for the wedding journey, orders the express and the carriages, and 
frequently buys the ring and sees that it is in its place in his waist¬ 
coat pocket. He attends the groom in the vestry, and stands by him 
during the ceremony. Sometimes he accompanies the bride and groom 
to the station and sees them safely off. He does not form part of 
the wedding procession when it enters the church. In this procession 
the ushers come first, then the bridesmaids; then the maid of honor, 
if there be one, and then the bride herself, leaning upon the arm of 
her father, brother, or some other male relative. If her father is 
not living, the bride, if she desires, may be given away by her mother. 
Whoever performs this office merely bows when the question <( Who 
giveth this woman away ? ® is asked and then goes to the pew where 
the bride’s family is seated. As a rule, only one ring is used in the 
ceremony, but sometimes rings are exchanged. The bride does not 
remove her glove to have the ring put on, the third finger of the 
left-hand glove being slit for the purpose. After the ceremony, the 
bride and groom should leave the church with as much solemnity as 
they entered it. It is in bad taste for a bride to smile and nod to 
her friends while going down the aisle of a church. 

The bride is generally gowned in the conventional white, with long 
veil, and perhaps orange blossoms. After the ceremony, the veil is 
thrown back, the maid of honor performing this service. A bride may 
wear a traveling gown and hat if she chooses. The elaborate trous¬ 
seau once prepared for a bride is not now considered in good taste. 


WEDDING GIFTS 


40 


There is no reason why a bride should buy dozens of sets of under¬ 
wear, as if she were never again to have money to spend on clothes. 
As for her dresses, she should have only enough for one season’s 
wear. Fashions change so quickly that it is but poor economy to 
purchase many gowns. 

The wise woman will not sacrifice present display to future com¬ 
fort. If a bride does not consider herself .she should at least consider 
her family. Too many families have been crippled financially by the 
effort to give the daughters large church weddings. The unworthy 
motive is sometimes that the bride may have a profusion of wedding 
gifts with which to begin her married life. No self-respecting woman 
would care to receive gifts which did not represent love or kindly in¬ 
terest. 

Many brides do not look beyond the wedding-day; „ as if its pomp 
and ceremony were the whole of marriage. A dispassionate observer 
is almost tempted to think that a girl marries for the sake of the 
ceremony. If the bride be wise in her generation she will keep up 
the illusions and harmless mysteries of the engagement period long 
after marriage. She will not be seen by her husband in curl-papers 
and dowdy wrappers. She will always retain that margin of mystery, 
which is necessary to preserve the dignity of even the most imper¬ 
sonal relation. The intensely personal relationship of marriage needs 
to be safeguarded by the utmost delicacy and dignity. Women often 
fail to keep the love which they have won, because they go at once, 
after marriage, into moral and physical negligee. 


WEDDING GIFTS 


B rides have reason to regard the coming-in of the wedding gifts 
with apprehension. Only the gods know what symbols of stu¬ 
pidity and bad taste will pour in from well-meaning but mis¬ 
guided friends; French clocks, with a character of Parisian instability; 
hideous bronze knights to support the clock in its waywardness; vases 
to hold dust, not flowers, and a great variety of bric-a-brac 
which includes everything undesirable, from China ]: 
dogs to dragon-candlesticks. The bride realizes in ter¬ 
ror that she must either display these atrocities in 
her new home, or pain the givers, each of whom 
will look for his or her present in a place of 

honor. -q, 

There was an era of weddings, not long 
ago, when an unfortunate bride might find herself 

the possessor of twelve soup-ladles and eight silvei ice-pitchers. 

i—4 




5° 


DINNERS 


The ice-pitcher and the castor went into oblivion together, but the 
soup-ladle is still a popular choice with the giver of wedding gifts. 

If silver is sent as a present, it should be unmarked, and the donor 
should let the bride know that she is at liberty to exchange it, should 
she have duplicates, or should she desire something else in its place. 
It is not advisable to give pictures as wedding presents, unless the 
bride’s taste in art is very well known. Fine china for the table 
makes a suitable wedding gift; so, too, does a lamp of artistic shape 
or design. But in all cases, the circumstances of the prospective bride 
and groom should be considered, and the bride should not be embar¬ 
rassed with useless or incongruous presents. 

DINNERS 

% 

T he degree of formality observed in dining is an index of the degree 
of civilization attained by a nation. In England, dinner, the 
only formal meal of the day, is surrounded by an atmosphere 
of stateliness which has a moral rather than a material source, not 
at all dependent upon the number of courses served, nor upon the 
number of servants in attendance. The same dignity would be observed 
in breaking a crust of bread and drinking a simple glass of wine, as 
in partaking of a banquet. 

This formality of the spirit, rather than .of the letter, -is much 
needed in American dinner-giving. The materialistic temper of the 
nation, governing its social life, has made dignity and state synonymous 
with display and extravagance. In consequence, such dignity is re¬ 
served for extraordinary occasions, the daily habit being somewhat 
slipshod. In the matter of dinner-giving, for instance, no hostess can 
ever hope to impart the true atmosphere to her entertainment who 
does not daily (< dine in state. ® This means that the principal meal 
of the day, however simple, should be served with touches of beauty, 
and should be partaken of in dignified leisure. 

When dinner is an evening meal, shaded candles, a few flowers, a 
change of dress, a change of thought from the prose of the day to 
that kind of homely romance which comes with the closing in of night; 
these symbols, material and spiritual, lend state to the most ordinary 
family dinner. This habit of dignity once learned, the difference be¬ 
tween a family dinner and a formal one will be merely one of de¬ 
gree; it will not involve that upheaval of the whole household which 
stands in the way of hospitable intention. 

Invitations to dinner-parties are issued in the name of both host 
and hostess, differing in this regard from invitations to teas, luncheons, 
and general receptions, which the hostess alone extends. 


DINNERS 


51 


The ultra-fashionable hour for dinners at the present time is eight 
o'clock in the evening, although dinners may be correctly served at 
eight-thirty, or even nine. It is not good form to give a dinner-party 
earlier than six o’clock. Except in the height of the season, the in¬ 
vitations should not be issued more than two weeks before the oc¬ 
casion. In small towns, where the hostess is thoroughly acquainted 
with the existing conditions, one week or ten days is ample no¬ 
tice. 

In giving a formal dinner, the best taste directs that the number of 
courses should not exceed five or six; but these should be perfectly 
cooked and served. The secret of a successful dinner lies in not attempt¬ 
ing the unfamiliar, nor in putting upon the resources of the house¬ 
hold a greater strain than they can bear. The hostess who is out of 
her depth is in constant danger of panic, and of communicating her 
panic to her servants. She should know what her cook can do, she 
should understand the limitations of her waitress, and then give her 
dinner upon the plane of their best efforts, but not one degree above 
it. Unless her waitress understands the arr, of setting a table, she 
herself should attend to the last detail of this important feature of 
the dinner. To make the table beautiful should be her first aim, 
since the entertainment is addressed primarily to the esthetic sense 
of her guests. Beauty is not costly. A few flowers arranged with 
taste, a few candles with shades of a color to blend with the flowers, 
give this touch of beauty. 

The seating of guests is a most difficult task, and in this the tact 
of the hostess is displayed at each separate entertainment. Those 
who are strangers to one another should be presented when the 
guests meet their host and hostess in the drawing-room. A hostess 
is permitted some latitude in the manner of her introductions prior 
to the announcement of dinner. She will find some means of 
bringing her guests together upon common ground, in order that 
they may have opportunity for immediate conversation and acquain¬ 
tance. 

If a dinner be given to honor, or to introduce, any especial guest, 
that person will, if a lady, be escorted to the table by the host. T he 
hostess will be escorted by a gentleman so honored. In seating guests, 
deference must be paid to age, to distinction in any art or profession, 

and to social and political position. 

For a simple dinner, no great array of silver at the plates is nec¬ 
essary. An oyster fork, and two sizes of dinner forks with knives of 
similar sizes, and one or two spoons should be sufficient. Flowers at 
each plate make a pretty accompaniment. It is customary for the 
dishes to be passed first to the hostess, but they may be passed first 


DINNERS 


5 2 

to the guest of honor on the hostess’s right. Before the dessert is 
brought on, the waitress should remove the crumbs from the cloth 
with a crumb-knife and tray. Black coffee can be served either at 
the table or in the drawing-room after dinner. 

During the dinner the hostess should belong absolutely to her 
guests; she should never let her thoughts drift from the current of con¬ 
versation, no matter what eccentricities the cook and the waitress may 
develop at the last critical moment. She has done her best, and the 
guests know it. Trusting to their humanity, she should cast away 
care. In the last analysis, her spiritual peace is of more value to the 
guests than is the comely order of her dinner. If both can be pre¬ 
served, the full fruits of success are hers. 

The hostess gives the signal for rising. Gentlemen may remain 
in the dining-room to smoke and chat, or they may accompany the 
ladies to the drawing-room. An approved modern custom is to have 
a cozy smoking-room, where the host may entertain those men who 
prefer masculine society, leaving the others free to follow the bent 
of their inclinations. Some hostesses have adopted the European 
custom of serving coffee in the drawing-room, and permitting the gen¬ 
tlemen to smoke there. 

Breakfasts and luncheons, while less formal than dinners, yet re¬ 
quire a certain formality of setting. Both men and women are in¬ 
vited to a breakfast; but usually women only to a luncheon. Breakfast 
should never be served after twelve o’clock, noon. From one to two- 
thirty is the formal hour for a luncheon. Embroidered squares of 
linen, placed in the center of the table and under the plates, may 
be used instead of a table-cloth. With a highly polished wood sur¬ 
face, the effect is very good. Flowers should be abundantly used. 
For a wedding-breakfast these should be white, or of the colors of 
the bridesmaids’ gowns and bouquets. 

The afternoon tea in America is an elaboration of the simple Eng¬ 
lish custom of serving tea and bread-and-butter daily at five o’clock. 
Americans have made it a (< function >} most elastic in its limits. It is 
a favorite method of introducing debutantes , and also affords an ex¬ 
cellent opportunity to present a stranger guest to one’s acquaint¬ 
ances. Usually when a hostess announces her tea, she invites every 
one on her visiting list. Teas are the most informal entertainments 
to which invitations are issued. The variety of suitable refreshments is 
great. Besides the beverage from which the occasion takes its name, 
sherbets, punches, coffee, chocolate, and similar refections may be of¬ 
fered, but it is not in good taste to present wines. Usually a bevy 
of young women is invited to aid the hostess. There seems to be a reac¬ 
tion against deputing the serving of refreshments to these assistants. 


DANCES —OPERA AND THEATER PARTIES 


53 


Well-trained waiters are now preferred, leaving the hostess and her 
assistants free to devote themselves to the purely social duties of the 
occasion. 


DANCES —OPERA AND THEATER PARTIES 


T here are a few general rules which a well-bred young woman 
will faithfully observe at a ball. She should not sit out too 
many dances with any young man, and no matter what her 
preference may be, she should not dance with the same young man 
more than four or five times, even if the number of dances on her 
card should be twenty. It is ill-bred for a fiancee, especially if a 
general favorite, to bestow her favors with partiality. 

Well-bred men and women will scrupulously keep their dancing 
engagements. They will be careful to write names and numbers so 
as to prevent mistakes, and will, above all things, avoid the stupid 
accident of losing a dancing card inscribed with their engagements. 
When a gentleman invites a young woman and her chaperon, he 
must escort them comfortably to the entertainment, and thoughtfully 
look after their welfare during the evening. The obligation on the 
ladies’ part is to give this gentleman the preference and to accept 
his escort to supper. 

Those who extend invitations to theater and opera parties bear 
all the expense thereof. A young girl may invite her guests in her 
own name, mentioning the name of the chaperon. Gentlemen ac¬ 
cepting such invitations sometimes send flowers to their hostess 
and also to the chaperon. In sending invitations to the theater or 
opera, it is necessary to state whether the party will be entertained 
in a box or in the chairs. Decollete gowns may 
be worn in any part of the house during the ' 
season of grand opera. In some cities, nota¬ 
bly New York and New Orleans, full even¬ 
ing dress is required for both men and women. 

Should the host or hostess desire to entertain at 
supper after the theater or opera, it is a wise plan Grp 
to select the menu in advance. Where there is an in-^ 
timate acquaintance between the host and the members 
of his party, it is permissible to have an informal - 
supper served in a caft, h la carte. A chaperon may 
invite the party to supper, but it is not proper for any other mem¬ 
ber of the party except the chaperon or the host to proffer such an 
invitation. 





54 


LITERARY CLUBS 


LITERARY CLUBS 



A Literary Club is an institution the object of which is the study of 
literature. Organizations of this kind may be divided into two 
classes, the one devoted to investigation and research, the other, 
simply to literary recreation. The happiest results are obtained by a 
commixture of both classes. Under this combination we find the 
~P Travel club, in which the members may journey by means of 
books and maps through one country after another; the 
Debating club, whose members meet for the discus¬ 
sion of specified questions; and the Reading clubs, m 
which the study of the more important works of 
literature is taken up in a thorough way. 

Literary Clubs need be confined to no special 
season or society. They may be organized wher¬ 
ever and whenever a sufficient number of ener¬ 
getic and congenial persons are to be found who 
are interested in this form of social reunion and 
intellectual improvement; but perhaps they flour¬ 
ish best in large villages where attractive enter¬ 
tainments are few, and where the desire for 
intellectual stimulant, and for friendly intercourse, causes 
the residents to seek pleasant means of passing long afternoons or 
evenings which otherwise would be dull and profitless. 

If the object of a club is amusement rather than literary advance¬ 
ment, the first essentials are simplicity of organization, an absence of 
useless formality, and complete harmony throughout the circle. If 
serious work is to be done, it is necessary that the organization should 
be governed by rules, and that there be a more formal method of 
conducting the meetings. The result would be infinitely more satis¬ 
factory if the club would begin with government, grow accustomed 
to wholesome discipline, and have a clear, concise understanding of 
the work in hand, instead of drifting aimlessly, without compass or 
chart, over the vast sea of literature. 

The work of organizing a literary club need not be complicated. 
In clubs of moderate size, two officers are all that are required — a 
president and a secretary, who may also act as treasurer. The ordi¬ 
nary duty of the president is to preside impartially over the delibera 
tions of the assemblies, to enforce the rules of order, and to maintain 
due decorum among the members. The secretary reads aloud all 
necessary papers pertaining to the business of the club, takes charge 
of all of its papers and documents, receives and distributes all moneys 












LITERARY CLUBS 


55 


belonging to the society, and keeps an accurate account of all pe¬ 
cuniary matters pertaining thereto. 

Every member should follow strictly the rules of order, should 
abstain from all personalities, disturbance by whispers, laughing or 
other acts of annoyance, and should endeavor to promote good fellow¬ 
ship throughout the assembly. 

The club should prepare and adopt by-laws for its government. 
It is also usual to appoint a committee of three to arrange the pro¬ 
gram, to select and to assign subjects, and to act as judges when nec¬ 
essary. A meeting should be held each week, as longer intervals tend 
to lessen interest. Once a month each member should contribute an 
unsigned essay, story, sketch, or poem, which should be read aloud by 
the reader appointed for the evening, and be discussed and criticized 
afterward by the other members of the club. Subjects should occa¬ 
sionally be suggested for debate, and the entire society should par¬ 
ticipate therein. The meetings may be held at the house of each 
member in turn, but when practicable, it is better to have some regu¬ 
lar place of assemblage. 

Of course, no club will be a success that fails to keep up the in- 
terest of its members. It is necessary to the life of the meetings 
that great care should be exercised in the selection of subjects for 
study or debate. The arrangement of the program must naturally be 
influenced by the taste and capabilities of the club members. Sub¬ 
jects should be selected that will be of interest to the members, and 
upon which they desire information. Interest may best be kept up, 
and the minds of the members of the club most improved, by the 
presentation of a continuity of subjects from one meeting to another, 
and for this reason it is well to map out, for the season, a program 
of subjects which will bear some relation to each other. 

The members will not always be of equal mental capacity, although 
it is more stimulating and beneficial when all are capable of ready 
competition. A society of this sort will naturally separate into several 
divisions, formed of those who read best, those who write best, and 
those who talk best. Every member will in time demonstrate for 
what especial role he is best fitted, and it will be one of the tactful 
duties of the committee selected to arrange the program, to suggest 
and apportion suitable topics. The program should not be too long, 
and the more serious items should be interspersed with light forms of 
entertainment. Music, the discussion of art, even an occasional visit 
to the theater to see the dramatic presentation of some well-known 
book, all are legitimate means of amusement for a literary club. 

The arrangement of the programs must be left, of course, to indi¬ 
vidual clubs, but it is wiser not to make the subjects too extensive 


56 


LITERARY CLUBS 


or too diversified. There should be a leading paper to which all 
items presented should bear some relation. The minor contributions 
may vary as to character, being either pathetic or humorous, serious 
or fanciful. If an especial writer is to be discussed, as Shakespeare, 
Dickens, or Thackeray, attempt should not be made to cover all of 
their writings in a season. Should history be the keynote, it is best 
to confine the discussion to a certain period, or to some particular 
country or reign. 

There are many suggestions that might be adopted that would add 
interest to the meetings,— (< five-minute papers w might prove interest¬ 
ing ; a <( modest members box® could be organized, wherein slips of 
paper should be dropped bearing questions to be answered by the 
club. Prizes of books might be offered at the end of the year for 
the greatest number of popular quotations, the clearest essay, the 
brightest sketch, or most entertaining story. At the close of the 
meeting it is usual to devote a half hour, or longer, to informal con¬ 
versation, and if desirable, refreshments may be served. 

The aims of a Literary Club should be mutual improvement and 
entertainment. There should be a union of sociability and of a de¬ 
sire for the cultivation of a proper taste in literature. Clubs of this 
class are an excellent means of discipline; they assist the mind to 
grasp, to consider, and to retain the matter in original form. There 
are many minds that do not fully respond to school or college train¬ 
ing, but which later in life, under the stimulating atmosphere of these 
social and intellectual reunions, develop unexpected capacity. 

Debating Clubs —Debating clubs, because of their distinctive char¬ 
acter, require perhaps a fuller explanation of their management than 
do other forms of literary clubs. 

In the earliest stage of civilization, oral discussions were classed 
among the most effective methods of diffusing knowledge, and were 
deservedly considered a most important factor in advancing the great¬ 
est projects of nations. The ability to debate a question in a forcible 
manner is an invaluable accomplishment, and one that has often been 
the means of bringing honor and distinction to its possessor. 

Societies formed for the cultivation of the art of debate are fre¬ 
quently productive of the greatest good, and at the same time afford 
an excellent source of entertainment and recreation. They cannot be 
too highly recommended to those who desire to develop the resources 
of the mind, to exercise to their fullest capacity the reasoning power's, 
and to cultivate the faculty of extemporaneous speech. 

The simplest form of debate is the regular discussion of a question 
by two persons who oppose each other in formal speeches. In the 
debating club it is necessary to have a presiding officer, and to appoint 


LITERARY CLUBS 


57 


judges to render the decision. In presenting the question to be de¬ 
bated, it should be so stated as to permit of a distinct affirmative and 
negative, the affirmative always beginning the discussion. The num¬ 
ber of speeches and the time allowed for each speech are points agreed 
upon beforehand. As the speaker who opens the debate has noth¬ 
ing to answer, the closing speech is usually given to him in order to 
equalize the opportunity for argument. Little change is made in the 
form of debate when more than two speakers take part in the dis¬ 
cussion. There should be an equal number of debaters on each side, 
who ought to be fairly matched in ability. 

The earlier speakers should endeavor to leave some of the strong¬ 
est points for the concluding arguments, and the later ones should be 
careful not to repeat matter already advanced. Should the entire club 
care to take part in the discussion, another form of debate may be 
adopted. When his name is called from a list, each member may 
express his opinion. In this form of debate the question under dis¬ 
cussion is termed a (< resolution,” or <( motion , 0 which is to be <( sup¬ 
ported ” or <( opposed.® This method is often used in clubs and in 
societies, but it lacks the interesting element of personal encounter, 
and lessens the opportunities for brilliancy of debate. 

The method of organizing a debating society varies little from that 
of the ordinary literary club. The president (or chairman) should pre¬ 
side at all of the meetings, his office being to state the question for 
discussion, to call for each speaker, and to give the question to the 
judge. The duties of the secretary are the same as in other clubs 
of this nature. It is necessary to appoint a literary committee, who 
shall select questions for debate and assign speakers to different 
sides. 

By-laws for the proper government of the club are presented and 
adopted. Any member violating the rules of order, refusing to take 
part in discussions as appointed by the committee, or neglecting to 
pay his klues, may be expelled from the society by a two-thirds vote 
of members present. 

The great danger in a club of this kind is that its harmony may 
be disturbed by ill will arising from too free expression of opinion, 
or through the advancement of some member, who by superior quali¬ 
ties, or by greater intellectual effort, may rise to a prominent place 
in the society. It should be remembered that all direct controversy 
is to be of a positive nature, bringing success to one party, defeat to 
the other, and that the chief requisites for preserving peace in all 
serious discussion are patience, good-nature, and breadth and fairness of 

mind. 


5« 


GARDEN PARTIES—PICNICKING 


GARDEN PARTIES 



S ocial rules relax in summer, and at Garden Parties etiquette per¬ 
mits absolute informality. A hostess may without criticism invite 
to a garden party people whom she knows but slightly. She 
should, of course, call upon strangers before extending an invitation, 
but even that ceremony is dispensed with on occasion. The hostess 
should keep herself visible during the entire entertainment, 
ut its informality argues that her duties will not be ar¬ 
duous. The guests will amuse themselves, if material be 
v provided. Ices, cooling drinks, dainty salads, and shady 
nooks for tete-a-tetcs , are essential. There should be 
music, if the affair be on a large scale. 

These entertainments usually begin in the late 
afternoon and may be concluded at sunset, or 
extended into the evening. On such occasions, 
the refreshment table is an important adjunct. 

' The repast is buffet , and small tables may 
be scattered throughout the grounds, in not 
too secluded nooks, so that the guests, with 
the assistance of the waiters, may look after their 
own comfort and convenience. At garden par¬ 
ties, the hostess has more freedom than at any other entertainment. 
If she possess the tact to place herself in the position, as it were, 
of being her own guest, but greatly interested in the success of the 
entertainment, she will, doubtless, achieve a triumph. 


m 


PICNICKING 

C hildren hail with delight the prospect of a picnic. Parents do 
not. The former think of the rollicking in the woods and the 
good things to eat; the latter of the labors and anxieties, the 
resulting headaches, and sometimes illnesses, and the nightmare of 
disorder. Picnics are likely to be either <( very, very good,” or a com¬ 
plete failure. But, a failure or a success, the picnic is here to stay. 
The question then is, Can it be so arranged as to be a real pleasure 
to all concerned ? Can all martyrdoms be omitted without diminishing 
the pleasure of any of the party ? 

There are some picnics that are foreordained to be as they are. 
Of these, this paper does not treat. Such are the outings of the 
millionaires, like those managed by the late Ward MacAlister at New¬ 
port. To this number belong also Sunday School picnics. Few gen¬ 
eral rules can be given for the conduct of the latter, because the 


PICNICKING 


59 



circumstances of the individual schools are so different that each case 
must be studied by itself. But the generic picnic, the neighborhood 
picnic, is easily within the reach of most people and, with a 
little wise planning, may be made delightful and 
useful. 

The place should be selected with care, and 
should, first of all, be accessible. Half the day 
and all of the patience of the participants in 
the picnic may be exhausted in reaching the 
scene of action; and, if the return home is 
wearisome, or disagreeable, this fact may 
obliterate completely the pleasant memories 
of the day. 

If the plan for the day include boating, swim¬ 
ming, fishing, or crabbing, this will not only govern 
the choice of location, but will give character to the 
entire function. 

Apart from this, the place chosen should be one of more than 
ordinary charm. If you are to have a day with Nature, you should 
have her at her best. Some river side, some picturesque lake, some 
rugged hill, some inviting grove, some (( bank whereon the wild thyme 
grows,® will invite the pleasure seekers. One thing is imperative 
— there should be the best of drinking water within easy reach. 

The company should be selected with great care. This world is 
blessed with the presence of many pleasant, tactful, jolly men and 
women whose good nature is marvelously catching. One or two such 
would be able, on occasion, to infuse the spirit of cheer, mirth, and 
joviality into an entire brigade. They are invaluable for the picnic. 

When the party includes children, the start should be made com¬ 
paratively early in the day, and the picnic dinner should ordinarily 
take place at noon. When the party is made up of <( children of a 
larger growth, }) the picnic should be arranged for the latter part of 
the day. In this case the collation will be served late in the after¬ 
noon. The merrymakers will have the full benefit of the twilight, 
and the ride home, (< by the sweet, silver light of the moon/* will 
bring the outing to a satisfactory close. 

The selection of provisions and equipment for a picnic should re¬ 
ceive rational attention. Children will want swings, baseballs, foot¬ 
balls, beanbags, jumping ropes, and such other means of sport as are 
easily carried In every case take plenty of hammocks. 

There are two principles that should govern the provision of food. 
One is that it should be abundant, for a day in the open air devel¬ 
ops a surprising appetite. The other principle is that the collation 



6o 


CALLING 


should require the minimum degree of labor, so that the ladies be 
not cumbered with too much serving. Fresh fruits should be taken 
in abundance. Lemonade should be prepared in advance by 
mixing the lemon juice and sugar, so that only the water 
need be' added at the ground. The fewer china dishes 
the better. There must be coffee cups, but there 
need be few plates. Wooden or paper plates and 
pasteboard boxes may be freely used. But avoid pa¬ 
per napkins. The real napkin is needed at the 
picnic far more than at home. Have a full supply 
of napkins, towels, and soap. 

Sandwiches should be wrapped in napkins 
'or cloths* slightly dampened, to prevent the 
bread from becoming dry. Meats should 
be wrapped in paraffin paper for the same 
reason. Bread is at its best when a day or 
two old. 

Not the least of all the responsibilities entailed by 
a day in the woods is the cleaning up after the collation. To leave 
the beautiful grounds where you have spent a delightful day, cov¬ 
ered with scraps of paper, empty tins, fruit rinds or peelings is un¬ 
pardonable, and no party of well-bred young people will forget to 
do a little good-natured <( straightening-up ® of things before start¬ 
ing for home. Papers, wooden plates, and pasteboard boxes should 
be burned. All the other fragments should be buried. A few min¬ 
utes of careful work will leave the ground in perfect condition. 

Another point for consideration in the conduct of a picnic is to 
see to it that the work entailed is fairly divided, so that the bulk of 
it shall not fall upon the few who are (< willing. * 



CALLING 


Y oung people and persons of leisure must observe all social obliga¬ 
tions. The delicate and aged may dispense with onerous forms. 
Calling is obligatory upon all not excused by general consent. 
Formal calls are necessary but once a year, unless a special enter¬ 
tainment or special visitor make a particular obligation. 

In paying calls, the preliminary consideration is the visiting-card. 
Simple as visiting-cards are, they may yet indicate good taste or the 
absence of it. These important bits of pasteboard should be white, 
thin and unglazed; decorated, printed, or gilt-edged cards belong to 
a semi-civilized society. The name should be engraved in script, or 
may appear in blocked letters. 




CALLING 



The titles affixed to names in this country are very simple and of 
narrow range. A man prefixes « Mr.” to his name; a woman “Mrs.” 
or (< Miss.” A married woman uses either her husband’s name in full, 
or his initials. As a widow she may, if she wish, retain his name, 
or may use her maiden name with her married name as.— 

(( M r s , Emily Dickinson Jones. ® 


The eldest daughter of a family has her card engraved simply, 

(< M i s s Jones.® 

Her sisters use their full names, or their initials with the family name. 
To use a nickname on one’s card is in very bad taste. 

Physicians, army and navy officers, judges, and clergymen may 
use their titles on their cards, as,— 

<( Rev. George MacNeil.® 


or 

“Winston Douglas, M . D. ® 



A husband and wife formerly had their names en¬ 
graved. on one card, but it is now the custom for each 
member of the family to have his or her own card. 

The sizes of cards vary, but a man’s card is always 
much smaller than a woman’s. The address of the 
owner of the card should always be engraved in the 
right-hand lower corner. This includes the street and 
number, but not the name of the city. If, however, 
the owner live in a small town or village, the name 
of the town alone may be given. If a woman has a re¬ 
ception day, it is usually engraved in the left-hand cor¬ 
ner of the card, as, “ Tuesdays . ” A special time may 
be indicated as “after three,” or “four to six.” The 
name or names of the daughters are sometimes engraved 
under the mother’s name, as,— 


“Mrs. William Benson.® 

“The Misses Benson.® 

Persons in mourning usually have a narrow edge of black about 
their cards. This border should not be too deep. 

Calls may be by mail or messenger, or in person. Cards may be 
sent by mail for an afternoon tea or reception, or for New Year’s 
Day. Professional and business people, and those whose daily cares 
are exacting and confining, are at liberty to make many of their calls 
by mail; but persons of known leisure are bound by courtesy to call 
in person. The hurried time of a departure for a long absence sanc¬ 
tions the use of what are called P. P. C. cards; that is an ordinary 




62 


CALLING 


visiting-card, with the letters P. P. C. (Pour Prendre Congt —to take 
one’s leave) written in the lower left-hand corner. These cards 
are used when one is going away for a long period, or is leaving a 
place permanently. 

There are, however, certain • occasions which demand a call in per¬ 
son. After a dinner-party a call should be made within a week, and 
always in person. The success of personal calls depends largely on 
knowing when to go and how long to stay. If the person called 
upon have a reception day, the call should be made on that day, and 
on no other, unless a great degree of intimacy exist. If there be no 
reception day, the judgment of the caller should be used as to the 
best time for making the call. Morning calls of an informal nature 
are growing in favor; but these should not be made upon any one 
known to be occupied with household duties, or with other business, 
and should never be made before eleven o’clock. In winter, after¬ 
noon calls may be made as early as is desired; but in the heat of 
summer, it is better not to call before half-past four or five. 

The phrase <( not at home ® is now accepted in the conventional 

and not in the literal meaning, and should be used when the person 

called upon does not wish to receive callers. It should 

always be stated at the door, however, and never after 

the caller has entered the house, and has sent up his or 
her card. The servant should always know whether her 
mistress is actually at home; and, if at home, whether she 
wishes to see people. 

In sending up cards it is better to send too few than 
too many, for a lavish display of cards is never in the 
► best taste. A card should always be sent up, of 
course, for any visitor whom the hostess has with her; 
or if the hostess is a stranger, the same rule preyails. 
A card for the hostess and one or two for other guests 
(will as a rule suffice. Turning down the edges and 
corners of cards to indicate various social intentions 
has very properly gone out of the fashion. So much mystery 
surrounded these turnings, that <( Puck’s» caricature of the custom was 
well within the mark: <( If you wish to be perfectly sure, turn down 
all four corners and punch a hole in the middle. ® 

First calls are, of course, more formal in their nature than the 
ordinary calls upon friends and acquaintances. A card should be left 
for each lady in the family; two cards will suffice for mother and 
daughters. If the caller be a married woman, calling upon a married 
woman, she should leave two of her husband’s cards — one for her 
hostess, and one for her hostess’s husband. First calls should be 





COURTESY 




returned within a week, and in person. In the majority of places a 
newcomer is called upon, but in official circles in Washington the 
strangers make the first calls. 

Persons visiting a city send their cards with the address of the 
hotel to those whom they wish to call upon them. It is wise when 
so doing to indicate an hour at which they will be in so that their 
friends may not be put to the inconvenience of a fruitless call. 

When making a call gentlemen leave their umbrellas in the hall, 
but may bring their canes and hats into the drawing-room with them. 
A lady may open her wrap, but should not lay it aside unless re¬ 
quested to do so. These rules, however, are not infallible. In all 
social matters personal judgment and discretion must be exercised. 
When other guests arrive the caller should not leave immediately, 
but within a few moments after their arrival. The hostess rises to 
say farewell to the parting guests, but does not accompany them be¬ 
yond the door of the drawing-room, unless in the case of an aged or 
infirm person. 

When a guest rises to go, he should stand not upon the order of 
his going but depart at once. It is ill bred to keep his hostess 
standing while he draws her into a parting conversation. Let him 
remain seated until he has said everything he wants to say — then go. 

The topics discussed when calling should be of a general nature, 
and not over-serious. The successful hostess and the tactful caller 
will endeavor to soften the formality of the occasion with a certain 
atmosphere of nonchalance and kindly ease. 

COURTESY 

W hat is Courtesy? It is the myrrh and rosemary which keeps 
society sweet. It is the crown which makes a monarch of 
every human being possessing it. This monarch may be a 
day laborer, a child, a woman, or a boy, if he but have tranquillity 
and self-poise, a good heart, and a fair understanding. 

A passion of philanthropy makes a man courteous, however plain 
his breeding. The love of cultivated manners comes afterward, for 
the forms of politeness but express a thoughtful kindness in a super¬ 
lative degree. Under these forms of politeness, society protects itself. 
It is a convention, it demands conventional manners. There is in it 
much that is excellent and necessary. It is like the Constitution of 
the United States, holding many different laws and many conditions 
of men peaceably together. The strictest standards of justice cannot 
be applied to either of the two, but without them the world would 
relapse into chaos. 


6 4 


COURTESY 


Fashion does not always imply courtesy. Fashion may exclude 
generosity, and be politely framed to wound. Fashion is often a 
painted phantasm, but more frequently the laws of probation and 
admission to society are most useful, and lead to better things. 
Fashion may be but a ball-room code; but it is better than no code. 
There are persons who constitute a natural aristocracy, in every tribe, 
people, village, state, and family. They can assume, if trained, the 
toga virilis of fine, stately, conventional manners, but these never fit 
the selfish man, nor the deceitful and egotistical man. If a man with 
outward varnish of manner has not the true grain of the wood un¬ 
derneath, he is suspected, even if he has been dined and introduced; 
even if he be well grounded in philosophy, politics, science, and the 
gossip of the fashionable salon. 

Courtesy is the birthright of woman. She is born to good man¬ 
ners, or she should be. Her love for husband and children, her in¬ 
spiring and gifted nature, raise her at times into heroic and godlike 
regions. She treads her upward path as if no other path existed. 
She has an instinct of polite behavior, her love of approbation giving 
her a felicity of manner. She desires to please. She has a mag¬ 
nanimous deportment, holding out protection to all who seek her 
help. 

But not all women, thus powerful and thus gifted, are courteous. 
They can be, and are, very unjust to each other. They can wound 
by sharp speeches; they can cut, and neglect, in society, those whom 
they consider beneath them in position. They cherish small enmities 
and rivalries which are unknown to men. Perhaps from the fact that 
the ambitions of well-to-do and well-born women are restricted to a 
narrower circle than are the activities and ambitions of men, such 
women are often wanting in real courtesy. A woman is curiously 
keen to detect faults in other people. 

We are all encumbered with our personality; we exaggerate, we 
talk too much; we have prejudices; therefore we have a constant 
need of courtesy. Tolerance for the opinions of others is the first 
requirement of the courteous spirit. We must be courteous to every 
ism which others may believe in though we do not ourselves; for we 
must remember that to those who hold these beliefs, we are as much 
outside the pale as they may be to us. We must have courtesy toward 
all men’s thoughts. 

(< The Family of society is the balance of a thousand insanities, * 
— Courtesy is the urbane Doctor, who regulates all these crazy folk. 
The moment that Doctor goes to sleep we have mobs, and wars, and 
accidents, and tricks, and tyrants, and a plentiful crop of despots. 
Every man is a tyrant in tendency. 


COURTESY 


65 


The courteous boy is charming, everybody loves him. The cour¬ 
teous young man, if his hand is on the plow, will turn it aside to let 
you pass. The courteous young lawyer is the persuasive man. The 
courteous judge, as he sits on the bench, like Truth vested, adds a 
new beauty to Justice, who has been slandered and called an unlov¬ 
able deity. As senator, the courteous man can make us see his side 
of the shield. As doctor, that most important of callings, the cour¬ 
teous man begins to cure his patient when he enters the sick-room. 
Who does not remember that sweet voice, that tone suggesting com¬ 
prehensive energy and belief in his own power to heal, as it comes 
through the mystery and the misery of the confused and pain-stricken 
brain; that powerful courtesy which, like the note of some great organ, 
dominates the wild discords that are running riot ? 

How great is the courteous lawyer who can say, (< I thought I was 
right, but perhaps I was not!” The man who can leave his own 
point of view, how powerful he becomes in an argument! And here 
we may mention one of the chief graces of Courtesy,— it is Defer¬ 
ence. It is not necessary to copy the deliberation, and — as it may 
seem to us — the formal and trying stiffness, that characterized the 
court ceremonies of Louis XIV., or the republican simplicity of 
Washington, but we can well remember the effect upon us in child¬ 
hood of the fine deference paid by our fathers and mothers to their 
elders. It was certainly very impressive to young children, and it 
produced a happiness all through the house. 

Again, the courteous must not be too punctilious or too precise. 
There is a certain perception of the Juste milieu which here consti¬ 
tutes perfect taste. Corners and sharp angles should be avoided in 
the contact of everyday life. There is no greater mistake than to 
banish courtesy, even a formal courtesy, from the everyday inter¬ 
course of the home life. Great intellectual distinction, phenomenal 
gifts, cannot make good the absence of courtesy. We all remember 
the hero of the last battle, or the inventor who had done the world 
a service,—but who made us miserable because he was not courteous. 
Society demands of its patrician class the most cultivated courtesy, 
the most deferential manners, the graces of the fine gentleman, as 
well as the honesty of the sincere one. 

Even the coarse and ignorant, the mean and malignant, have a 
sensibility to extraordinary merit. The coarse and frivolous recognize 
superiority, and they honor it in a blind, capricious way. Therefore 
the official courtesies extended to a great soldier, a conqueror, a sailor 
who brings back his flag glorified, to a president who travels, to a 
great woman, honored as an author, are almost always productive of 
a glow of the heart. 

1-5 


66 


COURTESY 


The flag is a symbol of patriotism, and of courtesy, and as such 
it is a universal language. Does a hero arrive upon our shores, up 
flies the flag — a voice of courteous welcome from a million hearts. 
The boy shouts when he sees it, and the woman weeps; the rough 
takes off his ragged cap and, for a moment, looks amiable. It is 
not easy to remember a lack of official courtesy, except when, in 
France, Queen Victoria was caricatured, on her birthday. 

Official courtesies to the governor of the state do not amount to 
much in these unceremonious days, but they do amount to something. 
It is curious, however, how soon we drop them, as the president or 
the governor returns to private life. There is no taking off of hats, 
no beating of drums, as the ex-official walks down the street. It 
would be better for the nation did our presidents carry some of 
their immense consequence while in office, into their private lives. 

In colonial times, the clergy were treated with great deference, 
but in our republican days that has been abandoned. (< The Dominie 
is no longer lord.” And we shall never have the <( Grand Seigneur,” 
the man who was instructed in every art of graceful behavior, who 
was taught the bel air; the man who could not dress without the aid 
of a dozen lackeys, but who could fight like Marlborough. This man 
had good manners; he was more than the fashion of an epoch, he 
became — in the pages of Moliere, that French Shakespeare—one 
of the eternal types of human nature. He did graceful acts courte¬ 
ously, and he did cruel acts courteously. The mob accepted him 
for a master, because, as they said, if their feet were to be trodden 
on, a velvet slipper was better than a wooden shoe. He had not 
perhaps (< the bourgeois virtues,” but he had something which was 
very gracious and courteous. 

A courteous manner often pleases more than wit or brilliancy. 
Emerson says that Fashion is good sense entertaining company. In 
the first place we obtain command over our own natures, we control 
our severity of judgment. We aim at seeing virtues rather than de¬ 
fects; we may perhaps affect a cordiality which we do not feel, but 
which makes us more agreeable than we ordinarily are. Such a com¬ 
mand over the shortcomings of our own natures is not insincerity. It 
is Courtesy; it is Deference; it is Unselfishness. We may find that 
our “dignity,” as we call it, our <( principle of honor,” or some other 
high-sounding name, was really nothing but prejudice after all. 

A man who is by nature clownish is apt to dignify his character¬ 
istic by calling it a noble sincerity, and he often does injustice to the 
more polished man. He should remember, however, that the manner 
of a vulgar man has freedom without ease, and the manner of a gen¬ 
tleman has ease without freedom. A man with a courteous address 


COURTESY 


67 


may be just as sincere as if he possessed the noble art of treading- on 
everybody’s toes. 

Is it the fools alone who see only the pleasant side ? Far from it. Are 
they alone the visionaries, who see the best rather than the worst ? 
The person who sees the bright light in an eye otherwise considered 
dull, who distrusts the latest scandal, is as likely to be sincere and wise 
as is the cross-grained and suspicious person. He who is courteous 
is quite as likely to be sincere as he who has no toleration for sin¬ 
ners. To live only for this world, with its imperfect judgments, would 

• 

be a very poor life, indeed, but whil we have to live in this world, 
we should make ourselves as agreeable and as ornamental as we can. 
And courtesy will help us to do this. Courtesy will teach us the (< bel 
air* and make us agreeable to all sorts and conditions of men. And 
if we cannot command great talents and great beauty, if we have not 
grace or wit, we can all acquire a courteous manner. 

As a nation grows — and what is the growth of a nation but that 
of many atoms, many a mite, many an individual?—it grows more 
courteous. It respects the rights of the ship which comes to its port 
in time of war. Nothing could have been more beautiful than the 
care taken by the people of New York of the Spanish man-of-war 
which happened to be in our waters whilst the Spaniards in Cuba 
were blowing up our (< Maine. * This was international courtesy. One 
of the grandest things which the family of man can conceive is this 
international courtesy. The heart of man used to throb at the old 
story of the French guard who entreated the English to fire first; but 
we have a nobler story of our own Captain Philip, who forbade his 
men to cheer, saying, (< Don’t cheer! the poor fellows are dying.* 

Excellence forms, or should form, an indestructible fellowship be¬ 
tween those who possess it. All great ones, towering above the com¬ 
mon multitude of mortals, feel themselves indissolubly united. Their 
condition is too solitary for them not to seek each other. 

A world without courtesy is a disorganized thing. The temper is 
an enemy that carries away the girths from our saddles,— the bits 
from our bridles,—the oars from our boats,—the wheels from our 
carriages,—that leaves us in the demoralized condition of a world with¬ 
out courtesy. How can we make a bargain without courtesy ? How 
adjust a quarrel? How can we educate our children; how can we 
marry or be given in marriage; how can we bury our dead; how can 
we rule the state; or do anything in the least of a public and import¬ 
ant nature without courtesy ? Certainly it is hard enough to unravel 
all these tougher threads, even with courtesy and patience. 

A child cannot be too early trained in courteous manners. The 
little boy or girl should be taught to give the right hand, and the 


68 


COURTESY 


little girl to curtsy when introduced — to answer when spoken to. 

All the elements of polite behavior should begin early. Good table 

manners are most important, and cannot begin too early. There is a 
very old proverb that (< Courtesy costs nothing, * but it is a lifelong 
study to obtain a courteous manner. To meet a person who has it 
is a cordial exhilaration. 

Bravery, modesty, and hope, as against hostility, bitterness, and 
anger, such is Courtesy as against Discourtesy. Truth, courage, frank¬ 
ness, love, humility, and deference are all on the side of Courtesy. 

There is nothing more interesting than the creation of the gen¬ 
tleman, not a frivolous and fantastic gentleman, but a brave and well- 

bred man, a compound result, into which every force has entered as 
an ingredient, — virtue, wit, courage, and power. Excellence of man¬ 
ners and social cultivation grew with every age of the human race, 
but we must keep alive the distinction between fashion, a word some¬ 
times of sinister meaning, and the heroic character which the word 
gentleman imparts. A gentleman is a man of truth, expressing his 
lordship in his behavior. He does not despise fashion, but it is the 
flower or fruit, not the grain of the tree. Fashion becomes <( funded 
talent, w and aristocracy and fashion are inevitable results of cultiva¬ 
tion, education, and courtesy. 

A fine sense of propriety leads up in every society to social and 
civic distinctions, and although the objects and ends and aims of 
fashion may become frivolous, fashion in itself is not frivolous, nor 
objectless, nor accidental. Each man’s rank depends on the symme¬ 
try of his structure. A natural gentleman finds his way in, and will 
keep the oldest patrician out, if that man has lost his claim to the 
grand old name of gentleman. Good breeding and personal superi¬ 
ority will fraternize with each other. The true gentleman rises to 
the top and stays there, nor can any accident of fortune affect his 
patent of nobility; no man but himself can take from him this name, 
the grand old name of gentleman. 

La politesse est a Vesprit. 

Ce que la grace est an visage. 

De la bruit du cceur elle est la douce image 

Et c'est la bontc quon c her it ? 


Voltaire. 


THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 


6 y 


THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 


oung women are the greatest influence in the world to-day. It 



I is sometimes said that women are what men make them. It is 
much truer, I think, to say that men are what women make 
them. The best elements of society are conserved in women. The 
world looks to women, and depends upon them, for its moral and 
spiritual advancement. I wish more girls would realize this great 

fact. But more are realizing it, I am happy to say, than in my 
youth. 

In my time, I have seen our sex advance in moral fiber and in 
dignity of thought. Their release from worn-out tradition, as to the 
place of women, has broadened their horizon and increased their am¬ 
bition to live on high planes of intellectual and moral life. They are 
going up, and men are going up with them. One sex cannot ad¬ 
vance alone; the progress must be mutual. This is why I believe in 
coeducation. The sexes are an inspiration and a guard to each other. 

I* am glad that the girls of to-day are athletic, for sound health 
means far greater happiness for themselves, and those near and dear 
to them, and a stronger and better race in the twentieth century. 
To all girls, I would say: If you want to feel joy in living, exercise 
in the open air as much as possible. Breathe deeply, and inure 
yourselves to cold. 

I am thankful that home training is now being taught in the pi\b- * 
lie schools. There are vast potentialities of happiness in this move¬ 
ment. It will give added success and satisfaction to the married 
state, and to specify a minor, but still important, matter, will go far 
toward solving the servant problem, by increasing respect for house¬ 
hold work. One of the greatest regrets of my life has been that I 
have not been more of an adept at housekeeping. Yet I, who have 
devoted myself chiefly to writing, lecturing, and traveling, have needed 
this knowledge less than most women. 

I have much respect for the woman who is proficient in household 
work. She does not make drudgery of it. She takes pride in her 
capability, and is a success,— considerably more of a success than the 
haughty “lady,” who orders her servants about in imperious tones. 
The latter would not like to be told that her attitude is a relic of 
barbarism, and is rarely, if ever, seen in the best society; yet this is 
the truth. The woman who thinks it beneath her dignity to treat 
with tactful consideration those who are performing the duties of 
her household, gives unmistakable evidence of crudeness and lack of 
all culture, except, perhaps, a mere surface glaze, which is usually 
most transparent to those whom she is most desiious of impiessing. 


7° 


THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 


Such a woman may be able to simulate elegance and polish, but she 
has really very bad manners. 

In this matter of manners, we have not advanced during the last 
century. We Americans do not give manners the attention they de¬ 
serve. Abroad, we are acquiring the reputation of being the best- 
dressed people in the world; but about our manners, which are even 
more important than dress, there is often a polite but significant si¬ 
lence. Our educational system should take more account of deport¬ 
ment, which, in large measure, is expressive of what we represent. 
The social atmosphere is warmed by the enthusiasm of youth. We 
admire and even envy the overflowing vitality of the healthy girl; 
but when the outpouring of this enthusiasm and vitality becomes 
forgetful of the feelings and opinions of others, the line between 
good manners and bad is crossed. 

Young women who are fond of outdoor sports, who can do as well 
as men numerous things that, in the past, men alone did, and women 
who are successfully competing with men in the business or the pro¬ 
fessional world, exult in the power and freedom which their mothers 
did not have. This is excellent, but these progressive women are in 
danger of offending good manners, by giving their exultation and 
their own personalities too great an emphasis. Some of them feel 
that their sturdy work or play is too engrossing to give them time 
for the delicate amenities and little niceties of social life that in my 
youth were held in such high esteem. This view of manners is not 
that of the majority of women, but it has sufficient prevalence to 
have caused a deterioration in politeness since the days when I went 
to school. Young women are less reserved than they used to be. 
They should remember that reserve is a power in life, as in litera¬ 
ture. It is possible to be frank, and yet keep something in reserve. 

Good manners are not a mere matter of form. It is, of course, 
essential that there be some standard of deportment, but the garment 
of formal politeness is easily assumed and may conceal depravity. 
True politeness, the kind that cannot be counterfeited, finds its source 
in a good heart, sincerity being its chief element. To be polite in 
the true sense, one must be well mannered in thought and feeling. 
If a mother bring up her children to be self-respecting, sincere, and 
considerate of others, she need, not drill them much in the external 
forms of politeness. She may rest assured that they will have innate 
good breeding, which is a key to many of the world’s storehouses of 
success and happiness. 

The freedom or even laxity of manner which I have seen develop 
in young people during the last few years is but a reaction against 
the old stiffness and formality of society. Already this reaction is 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


7 T 

beginning to wear itself out, and the pendulum of American woman¬ 
hood to swing evenly and smoothly. The new influences and oppor¬ 
tunities which have come into the lives of our women during the 
period of my observation, have resulted in a state of affairs which 
partakes somewhat of the chaotic; but, out of the chaos, order is be¬ 
ing born, and out of the stimulating new conditions, will come the 
representative twentieth-century American girl, who will be, I think, 
the highest type of girl the world has seen. 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


D uring the last twenty-five years the higher education of women 
has become general in the United States. American fathers 
expect to send their daughters, as well as their sons, to college. 
Girls with degrees are (( thick as autumnal leaves ... in Val- 
lambrosaA Such dizzy intellectual heights are attempted that the 
practical interests of everyday life are in danger of being viewed r 
through the wrong end of the opera glass. 

But whatever the effect of college education upon 
women, it has become a permanent element in Ameri¬ 
can life; and must be considered, therefore, in its re¬ 
lation to American girlhood. The prospective collegian 
should know, first of all, why she is going to college 
whether to prepare herself for teaching, or for wider fields of 
mental activity; or merely to have a good time. This last 
object is by no means an unworthy one. The social side 
of college life is of value in developing a girl’s charac¬ 
ter and in preparing her for general society. That an ex¬ 
clusive devotion to study has often the opposite effect is 
not an argument against higher education, but against the mis¬ 



use of it. 

A girl’s choice of a college will depend largely upon what she is 
going to college for, and upon the amount of money at her command. 
Many of the state colleges and universities, as well as those of private 
foundation, offer a certain number of free scholarships. No young 
woman, however poor, need be debarred from college privileges, pro¬ 
vided she be intellectually gifted. But she should be sure of the nature 
of her gifts. Many struggle through college, emerging worn and torn, 
who would have been much better employed in learning dressmaking, 
or millinery, or the care of a house. Speaking generally, it is better 
to remain ignorant of all the (< ologies » forever than for four years to 
drag a tired, ill-nourished body in the wake of an aspiring brain. 



72 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


Mental and physical health can always command work, but a broken- 
down constitution renders a whole alphabet of degrees ineffective. 

The choice of a women’s college or of a coeducational institution 
is a matter of individual judgment and preference. Much can be 
said in favor of either system of education. The women's college is 
a kind of emancipated boarding school. The coeducational college or 
university is more nearly related to the high school. As a rule, co¬ 
educational institutions present greater advantages and make severer 
demands on the scholarship of students than do women’s colleges. 
The objection is frequently made against coeducation that it is as 
productive of engagements as of degrees, the degree of M. R. S. be¬ 
ing bestowed by one student upon another. If true, it is one more 
argument in favor of coeducation. In the bracing intellectual atmos¬ 
phere of university life, men and women meet without the specter 
of sex constantly between them. Working shoulder to shoulder in 
the class room, they learn to like and to respect one another; to 
measure each the other’s character by the light of high noon,— a 
better preparation for marriage than is limited drawing-room inter¬ 
course. If all marriages could be made in college instead of in the 
traditional heaven, there would be fewer unhappy ones. 

A girl should not go to college too early. She will appreciate its 
advantages far more at twenty than at sixteen, an age which, despite 
the traditional sweetness, has many limitations. Temperament, of 
course, enters into the question. Some girls of seventeen are more 
mature than others of twenty-two or twenty-three. As a rule, a girl 
is ready for college when she has begun to think and reason for 
herself; when her character has taken on definite outlines. The 
higher education is for the development of her womanhood, as well 
as for the development of her brain. A girl may have all the re¬ 
quisite mental attainments for entering college, but may be morally 
immature, and, therefore, easily led and easily influenced. Too little 
stress is laid upon the moral preparation for the college career. 
Ideals should be high and noble, principles fixed and sound, before a 
girl leaves the shelter of home to become part of a great educa¬ 
tional institution. 

Having chosen her college, the prospective freshman’s next thought 
should be of her wardrobe, and of the furniture for her room. The 
college trousseau is almost as important as the bridal trousseau, and 
should be prepared with equal care. No matter how great her mental 
attainments, the college woman should dress well, if for no other 
reason than to promote the cause of higher education. Unspeakable 
damage has been done to this cause by the bluestocking, rigid and 
eager, with ill-fitting clothes, and an unwomanly lack of mystery 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


73 


about her. Plain, obvious, and literal, she suggested not culture, but 
all the stupidities of over-education. The really clever woman under¬ 
stands that she must hide her attainments under a veil of feminine 
charm and mystery. Her learning is a rapier to be concealed under 
folds of chiffon and silk. She may be as unusual in character and 
attainments as she pleases, if she only dresses in the fashion. A 
woman must always be the cpieen of her learning, and not its slave. 
She must be a woman before she is a scholar; and she expresses this 
supremacy most clearly in her dressing. 

Plain, stylish, tailor suits, with shirt waists, are suitable for the class 
room. For the evening dinner, which is now customary in the ma¬ 
jority of halls and dormitories, she should have two or three light 
silk waists. Even though she study after dinner, she will find the 
change of dress restful, and perhaps mentally stimulating. For the 
usual college receptions and dances, she should have a couple of 
pretty, but serviceable evening dresses. For Sunday wear, the girl col¬ 
legian should have a more elaborate tailor suit, 'and as pretty a hat to 
* wear with it as her purse can afford. Her preparations for college 
should also include the furniture of her room. As a rule, she will 
find it more satisfactory to room alone, and thus have the decoration 
of her (< cell ® entirely in her own hands. As it will be her <( House 
of Lifefor four years or more, it will repay her to bring as many 
of her Lares and Penates with her as possible; her pictures, her 
books, her ornaments. The sight of her familiar possessions will 
help to dispel her possible homesickness. < 

College dormitories are usually furnished, but the student will find 
her room more comfortable and satisfactory if she provide the 
greater part of the furniture herself. She is really setting up a 
little home for herself, as the bride does, with the difference that 
her house is comprised in one room. College girls frequently speak 
of their rooms as their (< houses. w Unless the room is divided by a 
partition, it should be made to look as much like a sitting-room as 
possible. The best bed for the purpose is a box-couch in which 
clothes may be put away,'and which can serve for a divan in the day¬ 
time. Heaped with cushions, it may be made into a veritable cosy 
corner. The tea-table is a necessary institution of college life. If 
the collegian has any intention of making calls or returning them, she 
should have her tea-table equipped with teakettle and as many pretty 
cups and saucers as she can afford. A cupboard in which to store 
tea, sugar, crackers, olives, and other groceries, is indispensable. 

The social side of college life, represented by the tea-table, is of 
great importance to the college girl and cannot be dismissed with a 
word. It has, as a rule, two divisions. There is the social life of 


74 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


the halls or dormitories, the life of the girl students among themselves; 
and the broader social life in which they come in contact with mem¬ 
bers of the faculty, perhaps; or with the men students, if it be a co¬ 
educational university. In women’s colleges, the majority of social 
events exclude men altogether. Teas, receptions, dances, plays, are 
given by the women and for the women. In colleges where the stu¬ 
dents live in communities of twenty or twenty-five, occupying sepa¬ 
rate houses, there are divisions and subdivisions of the little social world. 

It is a great advantage to a girl to know some things concerning 
the social life of the hall or dormitory before she is drawn into it. 
If she be fortunate enough to have an elder sister in the college, she 
will be spared many of the jolts of inexperience and ignorance. She can 
have no severer social training than the first two years of her college 
life. She comes from a home where she is perhaps the center of 
the family interest; where she has a circle of friends and a well- 
defined position. She finds herself one of several hundred girls in an 
institution,— girls who know nothing of her, and whose first attitude 
toward her is one, not of protection and sympathy, but of criticism. 

Every freshman should know that during the first three months 
of her college life she is a more conspicuous figure, and is more 
criticized than she will ever be again. She is being weighed and 
measured and estimated. Account is taken of her appearance, of her 
style of dressing, of her charm or lack of it; of her intellectual at¬ 
tainments, of her social gifts. This is just both to the freshman and 
to her critics. The little democracy of the college world is recruited 
from every part of the Union. The stranger coming to it is judged 
strictly on her own merits, and her position will depend largely 
upon herself. As a rule, she finds her niche during her first term, 
and this niche is usually a. Greek Letter fraternity. 

The fraternity system is forbidden in some colleges, but it pre¬ 
vails in the majority of colleges and universities in this country. 
Where the fraternity system does exist, it is so prominent a feature 
of college life that every freshman must take account of it. A frater¬ 
nity is an organization of close and secret foundation, which exists 
primarily for social ends, but implies a bond much like that which 
exists between the members of a family. The bond is one of mutual 
moral responsibility and helpfulness. The names of fraternities are 
made from combinations of the Greek alphabet, such as <( Sigma Chi, }> 
or <( Kappa Alpha. }) Chapters of each fraternity exist in certain col¬ 
leges and universities throughout the United States. Fraternities of 
men, have, as a rule, chapter houses where they live together as in 
a club. Women’s Greek Letter fraternities are not usually lodged 
in chapter houses, but exist within the community of the hall. 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


75 


Every fall, when the freshmen come up to the university, the 
fraternities, acting- in rivalry, select the most eligible new girls for 
the process of <( rushing” them. This selection is founded on cer¬ 
tain preconceived ideals or principles of each fraternity. In one 
eastern university there are four women’s fraternities. One is 
avowedly frivolous. Its members refuse to lead <( the strenuous life,” 
and with frank levity go in for a good time. Another is haughty 
and intellectual. Another is Philistine in character. The fourth 
compromises between the claims of the university and those of 
society. As a rule, each fraternity selects girls who will be in 
sympathy with its own ideals; but often- all four fraternities will 
be <( rushing ” one girl. <( Rushing ” her means inviting her out to 
walk, sending her flowers, giving teas in her honor, inviting her to 
midnight suppers and the like,— until the girl’s head is fairly turned 
with her popularity. If she be wise, she will understand that she 
is on probation, and is being criticized as well as (< rushed.” On 
her bearing during this trying period much depends. Courtship 
lasts generally about two months, then comes the <( time of asking.” 
Before this time, however, a girl generally shows her preference for 
a certain fraternity. When this becomes known, the tug of war 
ceases. No fraternity will expose itself to the mortification of a 
refusal. 

Many girls refuse to pledge themselves to any fraternity, belong¬ 
ing, instead, to the contingent called <( independents. ” It is an open 
question, indeed, whether the fraternity system is wholly desirable. 
Much can be said for and against it. It is an admirable training- 
school for a young, crude girl, who might otherwise grow younger 
and cruder in her absorption in Latin and Greek. Her (< sisters ” 
teach her how to (< do up ” her hair becomingly, how to put on her 
clothes with effect, how to behave on the campus and in the 
drawing-room. They initiate her into the codes of courtesy peculiar 
to the college. They see to it that she does not become a (< grind. ” 
They watch over her friendships that she may know only desirable 
men. The younger the girl, the better fitted she is for fraternity 
life, and the more benefit it will be to her. 

But after a certain stage is passed, the influence of a fraternity is 
not wholly beneficial. In narrowing a girl’s interests and friendships 
to a limited circle it induces a provincial spirit, wholly at variance 
with the cosmopolitan spirit which a university training should foster. 
Too often it lays the balance on the social side of college life, to the 
detriment of the intellectual side. The happy medium between work 
and play is not often attained, yet the girl who plays too much is 
really wiser than the <( grind, ” who devotes all her time to study. 


7 6 


THE COLLEGE GIRL 


The collegian does well to remember that the four years of aca¬ 
demic life are not an end in themselves, but a means to an end; this 
end being culture in its broadest sense, the development of the whole 
nature. It is not important to know everything which a university 
has to teach, but it is important to acquire the knowledge of greatest 
aid to personal development. The college period is the dividing line 
between youth and maturity; the time when knowledge must be trans¬ 
mitted into wisdom. Learning is of use chiefly in the class room, the 
library, the laboratory; but wisdom is also for the streets, the market 
place, and the home. The college woman who has <( learned wisdom w 
is fitted for any sphere of life, whether domestic or public, but the 
merely learned woman is an embarrassment to society, which does 
not know what to do with her. 

A woman should make her college career an organic part of her 
life, having direct and far-reaching results. The four years’ course is 
too often a kind of academic parenthesis, having no organic connec¬ 
tion with the business of living; it is too often regarded as children 
regard their school. A university should be looked upon primarily as 
a place in which to find out the meaning of life; to learn how knowl¬ 
edge can minister to man’s immortal destiny. College women too 
often neglect this lesson. They return to their homes, restless, dis¬ 
satisfied, feeling that the domestic round is too narrow to give scope 
to their energies. 

The higher education can have no broader field than the home in 
which to show its good results. In family life the womanly qualities 
are of preeminent value. Unless the higher education has fostered 
these qualities, it has failed of its purpose. In a recently published 
story of college life, a middle-aged professor of mathematics suddenly 
realizes that she has never lived, because she has never felt and suf¬ 
fered like other women, nor shared their experiences of marriage and 
motherhood. A too exclusive devotion to intellectual pursuits does 
warp a woman’s nature. The wise woman will not be learned, to the 
exclusion of feminine charm. 

The university of the future will perhaps add one more to its 
thousand-and-one courses. It will establish a chair for the purpose 
of teaching women the value of charm; and will bestow a special de¬ 
gree upon those who are charming, first requiring B. A. of them to 
prove to a skeptical world that womanly fascination is not incompati¬ 
ble with learning. 


THE ART OF CONVERSATION 


77 


THE ART OF CONVERSATION 



C onversation as a fine art is usually the product of an overripe 
civilization, whose great achievements have produced a kind of 
amiable world-weariness, a disposition to regard all matters of 
life with tolerance, with a certain detached interest. When the hold 
on outward things is loosening, when a nation is enjoying the after¬ 
glow of its golden age, then conversation attains the dignity of an 
art. Soldiers and fighters are men of few words. The period 
of struggle in the life of a people or of an individual 
does not produce the elements out of which the art of 
conversation is formed. These elements are lei 
sure, culture—the kind of culture which is born 
of a great variety of human experiences — and 
that divine indifference which precludes the pas¬ 
sions of egotism. 

These elements are found in all periods of 
national life during which conversation as a 
fine art was practiced. The dialogues of Plato 
memorials, more or less faithful, of actual 
conversations, belong to an age when Greece 
was growing pensive over her past greatness. 

The period which followed the reign of the magnificent Louis 
brought forth the famous salons where the art of conversation at¬ 
tained a perfection never before realized. Because these elements of 
leisure, culture, and that indifference which is born of sympathy and 
experience, are partially or wholly lacking from the life of the pres¬ 
ent, the art of conversation has practically fallen into disuse. 

It does not exist in the United States, because of the youth of the 
nation,— the staccato period of restless, nervous energy, of action rather 
than reflection, of education rather than culture. The Republic, being, 
as yet, a robust boy, crude but powerful, has not evolved that na¬ 
tional self-consciousness which must precede the social arts. It is ex¬ 
tremely doubtful whether the art of conversation could ever be per¬ 
fected in a nation governed as this is by commercial interests; by 
that continual rivalry which is directly opposed to the highest social 
virtues; by that extravagance which reduces all entertainment to a 
material level. The American hostess is more concerned with the 
decoration of her dinner-table than with the conversational qualities 
of her guests; more anxious to have a (< crush w at her reception than 
to put her guests in communion with each other. In consequence, 
snatches of talk take the place of conversation. 



78 


THE ART OF CONVERSATION 


The United States is not singular in this respect. While conversa¬ 
tion as an art is held in greater esteem in Europe, because of the weight 
of tradition surrounding it, the honor is theoretical. The same con¬ 
ditions that debar its practice in this country, prevail to a lesser 
degree abroad. The fever of modern life is more productive of delir¬ 
ium than of rational thought and calm social intercourse. The salon 
never existed in England, and probably never will, a certain taciturnity 
and surface coldness in the English temperament being unfavorable 
to the highest social genius. In Germany, the chief obstacle to its 
existence is the inferior position of women, or rather, the conception 
of woman as an unthinking animal whose functions are primarily do¬ 
mestic. In France, the home of the salon , republican institutions 
seem unfavorable to the preservation of its great traditions. The salon 
is essentially the product of an aristocracy* since the art of conversa¬ 
tion demands aristocratic qualities. 

Considering this art as an ideal which should be cherished, how¬ 
ever difficult of fulfillment in the present age, it may be well to 
understand why the qualities of leisure, culture, and the broadest 
human sympathy are necessary to the art of conversation. 

Americans, though often wasteful of time, have little leisure. 
Society and business life constitute a maelstrom, within whose whirl 
there is no opportunity (< to loaf and invite the soul.® Thought, like 
character, cannot mellow in the sharp, nervous atmosphere of a rest¬ 
less and overworked community. As a nation, Americans have not 
the slightest conception of what is meant by leisure. They confound 
it either with the helplessness of old age, when time of money-making 
is over, or with a kind of discreditable laziness. The leisure out of 
which the art of conversation grows is positive, not negative. It is 
the <( wise passiveness ® of Wordsworth’s teaching; the pause in which 
the soul takes breath. 

Culture is equally essential to the art of conversation. By culture 
is not meant the higher education, — not (< knowing things,”—not the 
ability to produce facts, as goods are measured out from a storeroom. 
Some one has said that facts are cobblestones in the path of conver¬ 
sation. The public school system of the United States, admirable as 
it is in many respects, does induce a false idea of what constitutes 
education; in consequence, genuine culture is rare. Education should 
mean, not the acquiring of a vast amount of knowledge, but the lib¬ 
erating of the mind and spirit of man through processes which are 
only in part intellectual. It is the perfecting of his humanity. Cul¬ 
ture neglects no division of human nature, but brings forth the perfect 
flower of personality. The art of conversation is directly dependent 
upon culture, and very little, or not at all, upon so-called education. 


THE ART OF CONVERSATION 


79 


Culture founded upon a great variety of human experiences, brings 
forth in its turn that wise charity which is the third element in the 
art of conversation. It is above all a passionless art; and passion is 
a fruit of egotism. Unless conversation is conducted without feeling, 
it becomes a kind of argument. There can be no barrier of egotism 
in the charity which is founded upon sympathy and experience. The 
man who would acquire the art of conversation must first destroy all 
barriers of egotism between himself and others. 

While conversation as a fine art cannot be universally practiced 
under existing conditions, there are certain rules of conversation which 
should be observed on all occasions. The topic of conversation is of 
primary importance. In a general gathering, it is wise to avoid speak¬ 
ing of religious or political matters. On these subjects many per¬ 
sons disagree. Theological and political arguments are notoriously 
bitter and intense. Even a slight reference to these subjects may 
wound or antagonize a hearer. The safest course is never to mention 
them. Opinions on any subject should never be expressed in general 
conversation. They savor of egotism of that personal element, which 
it is so necessary to eliminate from a social gathering. To talk of 
oneself, of one’s doings, is equally out of place. The motto (( Be imper¬ 
sonal ® should be adopted when in general company. To be impersonal 
is the essence of good breeding; the foundation of the highest social arts. 

The same rules which govern general conversation are applicable, 
though in a lesser degree of severity, to conversation between two or 
three persons. Gossip is always in bad taste. Chivalry should pro¬ 
tect the absent, who cannot protect themselves. The subject of dis¬ 
ease should be avoided. There is a certain vulgarity in speaking of 
one’s dyspepsia, or of one’s liver complaint. The woes of the house¬ 
keeper should not be retailed to her friends. In short, all kinds of 
human disorders, physical, mental, or moral, should be veiled. 

The silent elements of social intercourse have never been suffi¬ 
ciently honored. Men and women are known by the subjects which 
they avoid in conversing with others. Time and place should largely 
determine the character of topics discussed. The merits of a Turk¬ 
ish bath should not be mentioned at a dinner-table; nor the methods 
of dentistry, or any subject which is <( suggestive,” and might inter¬ 
fere with some one’s enjoyment of the meal. Conveisation at the 
table should be invariably cheerful and to a certain degree exclusive. 

Small talk has often been described as an evidence of frivolity; 
but it is a necessary factor in social life. It is better, however, to 
converse lightly' on serious subjects, than to converse seriously on 
minor matters. Eight conversation by no means implies empty con¬ 
versation. As a rule, general conversation should be light. It is 


8o 


THE ART OF CONVERSATION 


belter to float on the surface than to be overwhelmed by the flood. A 
too serious talker — one who has <( bank notes, but no small change ® 
— overawes his listeners, and checks the spontaneity which is an es¬ 
sential element in all social intercourse. 

The chief element of a successful conversation is sympathy 
rather than knowledge, but a certain amount of knowledge^ is neces¬ 
sary to give conversation its form. An acquaintance with the news 
of the day, with the current books, with the leading articles in cur¬ 
rent magazines, is a better equipment for general conversation than 
are the weightier matters of the law. Should unfamiliar topics be in¬ 
troduced, it is wiser to have the courage of one’s ignorance than to 
assume a knowledge which later may involve one in embarrassment. 
In this day of a thousand-and-one topics of general interest, such ig¬ 
norance is often pardonable: in any case, should be frankly confessed. 
Conversation is for entertainment, not for instruction and examina¬ 
tion; and sins of ignorance should be lightly regarded. 

The hostess who would make conversation serve her social pur¬ 
poses, should endeavor to draw from each guest the best that is in 
him. As a rule, men talk well on the subjects with which they are 
most familiar. In the Contributors’ Club of the (( Atlantic Monthly ® 
a writer spoke admiringly of a neighbor who could talk only <( cow ®; 
but on this subject, with which he was familiar in all its bearings^ 
he would sometimes attain heroic flights of eloquence. Whatever the 
special enthusiasm of the guest, whether it be fine breeds of animals, 
or the manufacutre of stained glass, or even stamp-collecting, the 
wise hostess will utilize it for conversational purposes. 

Conversation, even of the simplest type, does not always flow freely. 
An unsympathetic remark, an atmosphere of uncongeniality, may stop 
it at its very source. Men who have been known to talk brilliantly in 
some assemblies are quite dumb in others. Certain naturally gifted 
persons possess the happy talent not only of talking well themselves 
but of making others talk well. They are good listeners. To be a 
good listener requires self-effacement, the power of concentration, 
and that sympathy which leads one to be interested always in what 
interests other people. 

It is well to remember that it is easily possible to be a good 
listener, even if one cannot be a good talker. Coleridge was a re¬ 
markable talker, but required a monopoly of conversation for the full 
display of his genius. He had no talent for listening. Tennyson 
lacked the sympathy out of which spontaneous conversation flows. 
On one occasion, when he had been presented to an American lady 
who was anxious to meet him, he sat down beside her, and roared 
out, (< Have you trees in America? » thereby frightening the poor 


TRAVELING 


81 


woman speechless. When she had gathered courage to falter “Yes, 8 
he then asked in the same rough manner, <( What kind of trees?® 
This second question reduced her to despair, and the conversation 
came to an abrupt end. 

Shyness, one of the most common barriers to conversation, is a 
malady which sometimes afflicts the greatest of men. Hawthorne was 
so shy that he avoided social gatherings whenever he could. Diffidence 
generally implies self-consciousness. The best remedy for ridding one¬ 
self of self-consciousness is to both think and talk of what interests 
others. The golden rules of conversation are the golden rules of 
daily living: Tact, gentleness, sympathy, and understanding. 


TRAVELING 


A century ago Americans traveled strictly for business purposes, 
and always with a sense of impending martyrdom. They would 
not set forth on a journey of fifty miles without making a will, 
commending themselves to providence, and taking a solemn farewell 
of their families. Two days were consumed in going from New York 
to Philadelphia; four, and sometimes six, in going from 
Philadelphia to Washington. The lumbering stage¬ 
coach was the only vehicle of travel, ar 
all kinds of perils from storm, from In¬ 
dians, and from bad roads might be 
looked for. 

A man prepared for a winter jour 
ney from New York to Boston with all 
solemnity and apprehension with which he might 
now prepare for an arctic expedition. Arctic 
explorers of the present are furnished with more 
comforts than the traveler of 1800 could obtain at the wayside inn. 
The women of that time did not travel at all, unless it were in some 



extreme emergency, or when their husbands changed residence. Mrs. 
John Adams, wife of the second President, has left a graphic account 
of her stage-coach journey to Washington, and of the perils and dis¬ 
comforts she underwent on the journey. 

The introduction of railroads increased business travel, but, travel¬ 
ing for pleasure is a development of the last quaitei of a centun , 
during which time railroad accommodations have reached the superla¬ 
tive degree of luxury. Within these last twenty-five years American 
women began that habit of traveling alone, which is now so universal 
that a woman might start unattended on a trip around the globe 


82 


TRAVELING 


*w.‘ M ■ 




without exciting comment. She no longer waits for her husband or 

her brother or her son to bear her company, but goes 
alone on her journey of business or 
pleasure. 

This happy condition is owing 
partly to the participation of Ameri¬ 
can women in so many pursuits once 
Vfo open only to men, and partly to the 
comforts of traveling in this country. 
The long, unpartitioned car, holding from 
forty to sixty people, affords a protection to a 
woman which she cannot have in the small, locked 
compartments of the European train. Then, too, the toilet facilities 
are much more luxurious and convenient on the American than on 
the European train; while for long journeys the woman traveler has 
a maid at her command, and all the other conveniences of a train 
fitted up with every household comfort, from the dining-room to the 
library. 

Women are not, as a rule, good travelers. Any one observing them 
in the waiting-room of a railroad station must be impressed by the 
air of anxiety which they wear, as if the journey were a matter of 
life and death to them. They either sit silently on the edge of the 
seat, clutching their ticket and their bags, and ready to spring; or 
they fly about, asking a thousand questions of the wrong people. 

This nervousness is entirely unnecessary. Traveling is a simple 
process. The company plays no tricks on the public. Trains leave 
the station at the time scheduled — never five minutes before. The 
ticket office is always open in ample time for every one to buy his or her 
ticket before the train leaves. The baggage master checks the baggage 
for the train on which it should go. The company does everything 
for the traveler. Her part is merely to use her common sense, and 
to be calm. The majority of women are breathless travelers. They 
do everything <( on the run, suspending their normal state until the 
end of the journey. 

This unnatural excitement may be avoided by attention to a few 
simple details of preparation for a journey. If a trunk is to be taken, 
notify the nearest express company the night before; state the hour 
when the trunk will be ready, the train and the station to which 
it is to go, and whether two men will be required to lift it. If resid¬ 
ing in the city, the ticket may be purchased at a local office of the 
railroad company, and the trunk checked from the house to its desti¬ 
nation. This system of checking from house to house is most conven¬ 
ient, saves much trouble, and involves but little more expense. 




TRAVELING 


If the ticket is not purchased before going- to the train, it is well 
to start five or ten minutes earlier; but it is foolish, and savors of 
panic, to allow too much time for the trip to the station. Before start¬ 
ing, the traveler should see that her purse is in her bag, and her bag¬ 
gage check in her purse. Without this check she will not be able to 
claim her trunk. Her trunk keys should also be convenient, in case 
of emergency. On arriving, if she has hand luggage (though the less 
there is of this the better) she should deposit it on a seat, then, un¬ 
encumbered, take her purse and buy her ticket. She can then check 
her trunk. Both ticket and check should be put into her purse, but 
her purse may be carried in the hand until she is on the train. For 
all long distances, the ticket must be shown when going through the 
station gates. ' If a porter assist her to the train with her hand lug¬ 
gage, she should give him ten cents. 

If she is traveling in the ordinary day coach, as it is called, and 
the car is very full, she should leave one-half of the seat free. She 
may, of course, keep people out by a barricade of bags and a forbid¬ 
ding look; but a lady will never descend to such vulgarity or sel¬ 
fishness. On arriving at her destination, if she is going to a hotel 
and wishes her trunk sent there, she should inquire if a porter or an 
omnibus from the hotel meets the train. To the porter, she can 
give her check; she need then have no further anxiety about her 
baggage. 

Arriving at the hotel, she should go at once to the desk and tell 
the clerk the kind of room she wishes, the price above which she does 
not care to go, and the length of time she intends to stay. This defi¬ 
niteness may save her later both annoyance and expense. If leaving 
a hotel early in the morning, it is well to pay the bill the night be¬ 
fore, and to be packed ready to start. Before leaving take a last look 
about the room to see that nothing is left behind. 

If the stay has been of some duration, it is customary to give the 
chambermaid a tip of a dollar or half a dollar; and the waiter at the 
table the same amount. The size of tips depends on the length of 
the stay, the character of the hotel, and, of course, on the length of 
one’s purse. The tipping system is not a good one. It fosters servil¬ 
ity; is bad in its effects on both the tipper and the person tipped; 
but it is universal and cannot therefore be escaped without more an¬ 
noyance than the effort is worth. 

The secret of being a good traveler is primarily the preservation 
of good humor; the disposition to take things as they come, without 
being flustered or worried. If the train is six hours late, be philo¬ 
sophical over the delay. If it is buried in a snowdrift, don t make mat¬ 
ters worse by prophesying death through freezing. A train load of 


8 4 


TRAVELING 


people is a little community in itself, as dependent for its well-being 
as is any other community upon the individual members. 

Men, as a rule, are better travelers than women, because they under¬ 
stand better what to take on a journey, and because they are not so 
easily confused by time tables, changes, and checking of trunks, and 
are not so easily overawed by the porter. 

The preparations for a journey in this country vary, of course, with 
the length of time to be spent on the road. For a journey of seven 
to ten hours in the daytime, little more is needed than for a ride of 
an hour or two. Whether the distance be long or short, the most 
suitable dress for the train, both in summer and winter, is a dark 
tailor suit with shirt waist, walking hat, and gloves of lisle or kid 
as the season may demand. In summer, a thin silk waist may be 
worn, but a shirt waist of dark wash material is preferable, as it can¬ 
not be spoiled by cinders. 

In Europe, the cost of baggage makes it necessary to carry a great 
deal of hand luggage, but in America it is well to put into the trunk 
everything not needed on the journey and to carry only a small 
satchel with the articles most necessary to one’s comfort on the train. 
These should always include two or three handkerchiefs; a fresh col¬ 
lar to put on just before one reaches one’s destination; a number of 
common pins and safety pins; a comb; a pencil and a small writ¬ 
ing pad, in case a telegram or note must be written from the 
train; a couple of needles threaded with black and white thread; a 
small cake of soap; a drinking cup which folds into a case; and a 
fruit knife. A woman’s satchel should also contain a bottle of smell¬ 
ing salts. 

Unless there is a dining car on the train, or it is known that a 
stop is to be made for luncheon or dinner, it is wise to carry a 
lunch. Home-prepared lunclres are as a rule much more tempting 
to the traveler than the indigestible pyramids of food on a station 
lunch counter, or the elaborate menus of a dining car. 

In preparing a lunch for the train, the convenience of eating it should 
be the first consideration. Hard-boiled eggs should have the shells 
removed and should be wrapped in fresh waxed tissue paper. The 
salt and pepper for them should be put in a tiny pasteboard box or 
glass bottle. Sandwiches should be wrapped in waxed paper. They 
are best prepared with potted ham or chicken. Cold chicken is deli¬ 
cious for a lunch, but has the disadvantage of being difficult to handle. 
Pickles or olives should form part of the lunch, and perhaps a slice or 
two of plain cake, with fruit. A few bonbons slipped in make a 
very good dessert. Some lemon juice prepared for lemonade is very 
refreshing on a journey, particularly if it be made in summer. 


TRAVELING 


*5 


To have the full benefit of a train lunch, it should be eaten as a 
regular meal, and not nibbled at throughout the journey, with the 
consequent penalty of a headache. It is well to take a book or a 
magazine for a journey of several hours; though to many persons it 
is sufficient entertainment to see the passing panorama of the country. 

For a night journey more elaborate preparation is necessary. To 
the outfit for the day journey should be added a loose flannel sack of 
dark color, and all of the articles necessary for a morning toilet. It 
is better not to undress entirely on a sleeper, but to remove the 
dress-waist, corset, outer skirt, and shoes; the bands of the other skirts 
can be loosened; then put on the flannel dressing-sack. Thus arrayed, 
a woman can hurriedly <( get herself together w in case of accident, or 
make a pilgrimage to the dressing-room at the end of the car with¬ 
out going through elaborate preparation. Her tie, belt, collar, and other 
small articles of dress, can be put in the little net hammock which 
swings in every berth; her dress skirt should be folded with her 
jacket and laid at the foot of the berth. 

If there be an unoccupied berth above her, or beneath, she is priv¬ 
ileged to use that for her satchels and wraps; but she should keep 
her money and valuables upon her person. If she expects to arrive 
at her destination at a very early hour, she should leave word with 
the porter to call her in time. Every berth is furnished with an 
electric bell between the windows, by which she may call the porter. 
In the morning she can go, in a long underskirt and 
flannel sack, to the dressing-room to bathe face and 
hands and arrange her hair, then return to her £ 
berth to put on her outer garments. A well-bred 
woman will never monopolize the dressing-room in 
a train beyond five or ten minutes, if there be others 
waiting. 

Traveling abroad has become so common that every 
woman should know how to prepare for such a journey. 

If she intends remaining but a few weeks abroad, and 
those filled with travel, she should plan to take as little 
gage as possible. If she is not going out of Eng¬ 
land, she may take a small trunk without incurringto 
extra expense; but on the Continent, all trunks, ' 

weighing over sixty-five pounds must be paid foi, 
while in Holland and Italy no free baggage is allowed 
except that which is carried in the hand. Many per¬ 
sons travel all over the Continent with only hand luggage. It is- 
easily managed, because porters meet all trains, and, for a few centimes 
or ceutissimi, take the luggage from the compartment to the carriage. 



S6 


TRAVELING 


If a woman decides to take only hand luggage, she may divide 
her traveling outfit between a dress-suit case and an English hold- 
all. The hold-all is a convenient, if clumsy, arrangement, made of a 
long, wide strip of heavy canvas, with pockets attached. A large one 
holds almost as much as does a small steamer trunk; when filled it is 
rolled together and strapped. Into the hold-all should be put all 
clothing which is not to be worn on the steamer. 

The kind of clothing one should wear on a steamer depends upon 
various things; but a rainy-day suit of thick cloth is indispensable for 
deck use. With this should be worn stout shoes, a flannel shirt 
waist and thick gloves. A silk shirt waist or two, not too elaborately 
made, will serve for dinner wear and may be worn with the rainy-day 
skirt; long skirts are never suitable for promenading on the deck. 
With the deck suit, one requires also a golf cape and steamer rug, to 
be wrapped in when lying in the steamer chair; a cushion for the head 
is a great comfort. 

The underclothing should be of winter weight, as it is cold on 
the ocean, even in summer. For sleeping, flannel nightgowns should 
be used. A miniature hold-all, with pockets for soap, toothbrush, and 
tooth powder, should be hung up in a convenient place in the state¬ 
room. If a woman is sharing a stateroom with two or three others, 
she should systematize her belongings, doing all that she can to pre¬ 
serve the general order. 

When several share a stateroom, it is customary for each occupant 
to rise and to retire at a certain fixed time which will not conflict 
with the dressing and undressing of the others. The daily bath is an 
absolute necessity. On going aboard, the woman traveler should at 
once arrange with the stewardess for this bath; the latter prepares it at 
a certain hour every morning, and calls the person who is to take it. 

If the traveler feels too ill - to go to the dining-room, meals may 
be taken on deck. These meals are served by the deck steward. If 
one is inclined to seasickness, it is better to arrange with the dining¬ 
room steward for a seat near the door. 

The fees paid to the attendants on shipboard vary according to the 
steamship lines. On the most expensive lines five dollars is given 
to the dining-room steward, five to the stewardess, and three to the 
deck steward. On the cheaper lines, half of these amounts should 
suffice. No fees are given until the last day of the voyage. 

Traveling presents more difficulties in Europe than in America, 
but even the most timid woman need not fear to travel alone, if she 
understands a few simple rules. In buying a ticket, it is much better 
to go to the office of Thomas Cook, or of Gaze, than .to the railroad 
office; for at the former places, whether in Venice, Paris, or Vienna, 


THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 


87 


there are always English-speaking clerks who are ready to answer 
any questions, and to explain the entire route, the changes to be 
made, the stop-overs allowed, etc. At these offices one may 
obtain lists of reliable hotels and pensions, maps, guidebooks — 
in short, every variety of verbal and written information 
necessary to the traveler. 

On the Continent, it is customary for the majority of 
people to travel second class. In England one may even 
travel third class with entire comfort and safety. A woman 
traveling alone should always secure her room in the pension 
or hotel in advance, and know the exact cost, including all 
extras; otherwise she may be forced into great and needless 
expense. If she has not secured her room in advance, she should 
in making her bargain, be very exact as to terms, lest she hav 
unpleasant surprises on her bill next morning. 

It is possible to travel all over the Continent outside of Russia, 
knowing only English; but even a slight knowledge of French will 
be of advantage. No woman should go abroad without a supply of 
<( Baedekers ® for all countries which she intends to visit. In (< Baede¬ 
ker ® she will find every variety of information, from cab rates to the 
cost of a wood fire. She should study these guidebooks thoroughly be¬ 
fore starting on her trip, and have them with her throughout the journey. 



THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 

T he eighteenth century has been called the age of letter writing. 
Much of the voluminous correspondence of the time was of such 
literary quality as to find a permanent place among English and 
French classics. The letters of Horace Walpole, of Lady Mary Wort- 
ley Montagu, of Cowper, have a literary as well as a biographical 
value. In some instances, as in the letters of Walpole, the corre¬ 
spondence was carried on self-consciously with a view to future publi¬ 
cation. Cowper’s letters, on the other hand, were the spontaneous 
fruit of his friendly and gentle spirit, written without thought of 
fame. But whatever the motive of the writer, letters were of an im¬ 
portance in the eighteenth century which is now difficult of realiza¬ 
tion. The causes of this importance are to be found in the conditions 
of the time. Railroads did not exist, and stage coaches carried the 
mail from town to town. Postage rates were so high that letters were 
lqxuries which only the well-to-do could affoid. Books were scaice. 
People lived in an isolation most favorable to brooding thought upon 
the great questions of life, or to an intense interest in whatever news 
of the world they could obtain from a chance journal 01 magazine. 




# 


88 


THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 



All of these causes produced the lengthy, leisurely, somewhat solemn 
letters of the eighteenth century, with their moralizing spirit, their 

^ingenuous gossip, their clear and careful word- 
$J ing; forming a sharp contrast to the epigram¬ 
matic, staccato letters of the present. 

But over against the letters of Horace 
Walpole, Lady Montagu, and Cowper, may be 
placed the love letters of the Brownings, the 
correspondence between Carlyle and Emerson; 
and, coming near to the close of the nineteenth 
century, the letters of Robert Louis Stevenson, 
Phillips Brooks, Sidney Lanier, and Edward Row¬ 
land Sill. 

The decline of letter writting as a branch of lit¬ 
erature was contemporary with the growth of the 
nineteenth century. The age of the telegraph, 
the telephone, and postal service by steam, is 


not favorable to the production of letters which might 
serve as models of distinguished and beautiful English. 
The value of nineteenth-century letters has been per¬ 
sonal and biographical rather than literary. Bismarck’s letters are 
valuable only for the light which they throw upon the statesman and 
his life. The love letters of the Brownings have chiefly a romantic 
interest. The letters of the eighteenth century were impersonal and 
classic. The letters of the present day are valued in proportion to 
the personal element in them; to the light they throw upon a famous 
man’s or woman’s daily life, habits of thought, tastes, and inclinations. 

Correspondence may be divided into two classes: formal and inti¬ 
mate. The dividing line between these classes is not easy to deter¬ 
mine; one shades into the other. Formal correspondence includes all 
business letters and the majority of social invitations and replies. 
Letters to friends and to the members of one’s family belong to the 
(< intimate w class. 

There is no royal road to learning the art of correspondence, either 
formal or intimate, but it is easier to give certain rides for formal 
writing than for letters between friend and friend, since these depend 
for their style and spirit on the personality of the writer. The aroma 
of a letter, like the perfume of a rose, cannot be imparted by rule 
Sincerity and sympathy go far in the writing of a friendly letter, as 
they do when the correspondents are face to face. It is more difficult 
to write freely to some friends than to others. 

The whole matter of intimate letter writing is so dependent upon 
temperament, circumstance, feeling, that the form of it must be left 








THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 89 

to each person’s taste and judgment. It is a good rule, however, 
never to put anything in a letter which might be misunderstood or 
misinterpreted by the person to whom the letter is addressed. The 
spoken word carries its true meaning in its inflections, but the written 
word cannot be modified by tone and accent. For this reason it is 
well not to jest or tease on paper, or to write in anger. Angry words, 
when written, are more brutal than spoken words could ever be. 
Never repeat gossip in a letter; in brief, it is a good rule never to 
write anything in a letter which you would not be willing to have 
the whole world see. 

Concerning love letters, the best rule suggests <( Punch’s }> advice 
to those about to be married. “Don’t!” Do not write love letters if 
the temptation can be resisted. It can never be known into whose 
profane hands such letters may eventually fall. Even those of Keats 
to his Fanny seem silly and vapid to the world. It is never well 
to commit to paper the expressions of what may be only a passing 
emotion. Women, because of their highly strung natures, are espe¬ 
cially in danger of saying too much. The superlative degree may be 
at once sublime and ridiculous, depending for its character on the 
point of view. Pour forth the soul on paper, if absolutely necessary, 
but burn the paper afterward. 

Business letters should be as short as possible and written in the 
simplest style. They should contain nothing foreign to the subject of 
the letter. . If it is necessary to write on two or more matters of 
business at the same time, to the same firm, it is wise to devote a 
separate letter to each matter. If an answer is desired, a stamped 
and addressed envelope should always be inclosed. 

Social invitations can be either engraved or written. If engraved, 
the stationer will furnish, if requested, the correct form of wording. 
Written invitations may be in the first or third person, according to 
the formality of the occasion. The simplest, most direct wording is 
the best in either case. 

Business letters may be typewritten, but it is the grossest dis¬ 
courtesy to send a typewritten letter to a friend. Half the value of 
friendly letters lies in the familiar handwriting, which is, in a sense, 
the writer’s expression of his personality. Even the handwriting of a 
stranger carries a mysterious atmosphere of its own. Postal cards 
should never be used for anything more personal than a direction to 
one’s laundress. They should never be sent in place of letters. 

The kind of writing paper a person uses is indicative of his place 
in the social scale. Gilt-edged, scented, and highly-colored papcis aie 
vulgar in the extreme. A thick, pure white, unglazed linen paper is 
the best, though cream-tinted and hlue-gray papers may also be used. 


90 


THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 


Ruled paper is very properly ruled out of good usage. The only 
permissible decorations for correspondence paper are the engraved 
monogram, the coat of arms, and the address. These sometimes add 
great beauty to the paper, and they may be as ornate and as costly 
as you like. It need hardly be added that the envelopes should match 
the paper. This may be called the personal appearance of the letter. 
If the address is engraved upon the envelope, it should be upon the 
flap, unless the envelope is for business purposes. 

Colored inks are in bad taste; a good black ink is suitable for all 
occasions and possesses the advantage of being always legible. Too 
much stress cannot be laid upon the matter of penmanship,— and here 
the first requisite is legibility. To write illegibly is unpardonable, 
though many people affect an illegible hand, foolishly imagining that 
it indicates originality of mind,— not to say genius. An illegible 
signature — especially when attached to a business letter — is a source 
of annoyance to the recipient, and is frequently the cause of financial 
loss. If, then, your writing tends to illegibility, spare no effort to 
overcome the defect. On the other hand, the penmanship should not 
be an imbecile imitation of the copy book, whether of the Gaskell, 
Spencerian, or any other system. Such systems may be perfect in 
their way, but they have no more individuality than has the wax 
model of a hairdresser’s parlor. 

The address of the letter of friendship varies with the degree of 
intimacy. Dear Miss X ® or <( Dear Mr. Z ® indicates simple cordiality 
and courtesy. The pronoun (< My ® is intensive and indicates a degree 
of friendliness. (< My dear Mr. Z ® is friendly when <( Dear Mr. Z ® 
would be formal. In business letters the name of the person addressed 
should be followed by (< Sir,® <( Dear Sir,® (< Madam ® or <( Dear Madam.® 

A lady writing to a stranger should always give, in parenthesis, 
her title with her name. Thus 0 (< (Miss) Caroline Evans ® or <( (Mrs.) 
Mary Parton Bain. * A married woman may prefer to sign her name 
and give her husband’s name in following parenthesis. Thus, <( An¬ 
gelina Jones (Mrs. Jonathan Jones).® 

The heraldic title <( Esq. ® is not commonly used in this country, 
but is always used in England when writing to an equal. <( Mr.® is 
reserved for tradespeople and those beneath the writer in station. A 
man in America who has no honorary or professional title, is gener¬ 
ally addressed as (< Mr. ® The married lady should be addressed by 
her husband’s name, but not by his title; thus, <( Mrs. Henry Brown,® 
not <( Mrs. Dr. Henry Brown.® 

In writing a name always give it in full as <( Miss Mary Elizabeth 
Webb,® not <( Miss Mary E. Webb.® If initials are used at all, both 
initials should be given, as <( Miss M. E. Webb.® The middle initial 


THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 


9 1 

habit is intensely American and is a source of amusement to for¬ 
eigners. 

Every letter should plainly give the writer’s address. This is usually 
done in the superscription, though there is no objection to placing it 
at the conclusion. In all ordinary letters of friendship, and in all busi¬ 
ness letters, the date should be given in full — month, day of the 
month, and year. Thus, “June 21, 1901.® On brief notes and invi¬ 
tations, the date may be written out, and in this case it is placed at 
the end of the note. Thus, “June the twenty-first, nineteen hundred 
and one.” After returning from a visit of several days or weeks to 
the home of a friend, one should write immediately a letter of thanks 
and appreciation to the host or hostess who entertained her. The 
thanks which the guest expresses at the time of saying good-by are 
not enough. These should be reiterated in a letter. 

In writing both formal and familiar letters care should be taken 
that the general appearance of the letter is prepossessing. Margins at 
the sides of the pages, sufficient space between the lines, and ample 
room for the signature lend dignity to the effect. Brevity, simplicity, 
and tact are the best guides in learning the art of correspondence. 

The following examples will give a good general idea of the proper 
form for some of the letters of a more conventional nature: — 


Letter of Condolence 

Dear Helen : — 

The news of your father’s death has just reached me. I think I know, 
in part at least, what his going forth means to you; but the full loneliness 
of your grief no one can share. The happiness of death is always hidden 
from the living. 

My love and sympathy are more than ever with you. Hoping that I 
may see you soon to say what I cannot write. 

Faithfully your friend, 

June the second . Mary Eleanor Dale. 


Letters of Introduction 
Presenting a Gentleman 

London. 

My dear Mrs. Eustis: — 

You will not, I am sure, feel that this letter is presented to you by an 
entire stranger when it introduces to you Mr. Jefferson Howard, of whom 
mention has so often been made in my letters. Mr. Howard is paying his 
first visit to our country, and will be in Washington several days. 

Knowing so well the hospitality of your beautiful home, I feel I can do 
nothing better for my friend than to place him in a measure under your 
guardianship. Ever your fiiend, 

April the tenth, Gertrude Gates. 



9 2 


THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 


Introducing a Young Lady 

Germantown, Pa. 

My dear Mrs. Goodwin: — 

The bearer of this letter,— Miss Clines, — one of my dearest friends, is to 
be in your city for several weeks, and this being her first visit to Washing¬ 
ton, I am anxious that she should see it under the best auspices. There is no 
other whose acquaintance will add so much to her pleasure, and so I place her 
hand in yours with the sincere hope that my expectations of the mutual 
pleasure to be gained may be fulfilled. 

Your friend, I am always, 

January the seventeenth . Irene Wormley Newton. 

<( The Highlands. » 


Letters of Invitation 
Informal Invitation to Dinner 

[Engraved Address] 

My dear Mrs. Wilson: — 

Colonel and Mrs. Black are my guests for a few days and I am ask¬ 
ing some friends to meet them on Friday, the twelfth. May we hope 
that you and Captain Wilson will give us the pleasure of dining with us 
at seven-thirty ? Very sincerely yours. 

Margaret Browning. 

Saturday, May the fourth. 


Accepta?ice of Dinner Invitation 
My dear Mrs. Browning: — 

Mr. Wilson and I accept with pleasure your invitation to dinner on 
Friday evening, the twelfth. Through mutual friends I have heard much 
that makes me eager to meet your guests — Colonel and Mrs. Black. 

Faithfully yours, 

Katherine Wilson. 

Saturday, the fourth. 

<( The Richmond. w 


Declining Invitation to Dinner 
My dear Mrs. Browning: — 

It' is with sincere regret that I find it impossible for Mr. Wilson and 
myself to dine with you on Friday. We are leaving town to-morrow to be 
gone a fortnight. Our departure is all arranged, otherwise we would be 
glad to postpone it, as we are both eager to meet your guests — Colonel 
and Mrs. Black. Cordially yours, 

Katherine Wilson. 

Saturday, May the fourth. 

<( The Richmond. w 





THE ART OF CORRESPONDENCE 


93 


Invitation to Evening Entertainment 
My dear Miss Wheeler: — 

If you and your sister have no engagement for Wednesday evening, may 
we hope that you will spend the time with us, quite informally ? 

Yours most cordially, 

Katherine Florence. 

Saturday , the seventh. 

or 

Dear Mr. Lawrence: — 

Miss Noble—whom you met last winter — is again with us for a brief 
visit. We should be very glad to have you call. We are to be at home 
— quite informally—on Tuesday evening. 

Very cordially yours, 

Katherine Florence. 

Saturday , January the tenth. 


[Engraved Address] 

Dear Katherine: — 

Will you join us at Whist next Thursday evening ? We are asking a few 
friends, and hope you can be one of the number. It will be a <( small and 
early ® affair, but we may dance afterward, so bring a partner for the waltz 
and whist. Faithfully, 

Mary. 

Monday , the fifth. 


Answer 


Dear Mary: — 

I shall be delighted to join your whist party on Thursday evening, and 
have asked Mr. Waltham to accompany me. He is, as you know, an expert 
whist player. Thanking you for your kind invitation, 

Affectionately, 

Katherine. 


Tuesday , the sixth. 





























































































> 

























































































HOUSEKEEPING 



97 


HOUSEKEEPING 


Introduction 

G ood Housekeeping has both the dignity of a science and the 
beauty of an art. Its importance in the economy of society is 
such that every woman should understand at least its first 

principles. 

In Europe, no young girl’s education is thought complete without 
some training in the conduct of a house. French women are famous 
for their management of household finances; German women, for 
their knowledge of the minutest details of domestic science.- While 
very young they are taught to sew, to cook, to assume the care of 
bedrooms. The little daughter of the reigning emperor shares this 
education with the daughter of the poorest peasant. It is assumed 
that the higher her rank, the greater the obligation of a woman 
to look well to the ways of her household. 

These noble and simple ideals have been largely obscured by cer¬ 
tain conditions of American life: the greater independence of American 
women; the opening to them of employments and occupations other 
than domestic; the congestion of the population in cities, where home 
life in its fullest sense seems possible only to the rich; all of these 
causes have produced a state of ignorance concerning housekeeping 
which is responsible for many of the evils of American society. 

To train young girls to be housekeepers should be the first object 
of their education, since God and nature intended them to be wives 
and mothers, whatever other careers are opened to them. This train¬ 
ing should begin in their earliest school days, and should be conducted 
not by the teacher but by the mother. Good housekeeping cannot be 
learned in the cooking-school, or in the class room. It is a practical, 
not a theoretical, science, requiring daily demonstration for its mas¬ 
tery. To learn it in all of its phases, an hour at least should be spent 
each day in some department of the household. A young girl may 
well omit a language, or an “ology,® from her school curriculum in or¬ 
der to learn, each week, the preparation of some wholesome dish for the 
table, or some important detail of marketing or laundry work. Such 
an education, begun when a girl is eight or nine years old, and car¬ 
ried on, gradually and easily, until womanhood, would fit her for 
housekeeping, without depriving her of a single privilege of her youth, 
i—7 


a 



9 8 


HOUSEKEEPING 


This preparation for housekeeping is too often deferred until a girl 
is about to marry. In consequence she is overwhelmed by an ava¬ 
lanche of theories, which she has no time to understand or to apply. 
Or she makes no preparation whatever, depending, apparently, upon 
inspiration to guide her in performing those duties, which as much as in 
any other profession, demand a thorough previous course of training. 
She enters her new home, untried, ignorant, and little better fitted to 
cope with the difficulties of housekeeping than was David Copper- 
field’s Dora. 

(< Everybody we had anything to do with seemed to cheat us. Our ap¬ 
pearance in a shop was a signal for the damaged goods to be brought out 
immediately. If we bought a lobster it was full of water. All our meat 
turned out to be tough, and there was hardly any crust to our loaves. In 
search of the principle on which joints ought to be roasted, to be roasted 
enough and not too much, I myself referred to the Cookery-book, and found 
it there established as the allowance of a quarter of an hour to every 
pound, and say a quarter over. But the principle always failed us, by 
some curious fatality, and we never could hit any medium between redness 
and cinders. 

<( I had reason to believe that in accomplishing these failures we in¬ 
curred a far greater expense than if we had achieved a series of triumphs. 
It appeared to me in looking over the tradesmen’s bills, as if we might have 
kept the basement story paved with butter, such was the extensive scale 
of our consumption of that article. I don’t know whether the excise re¬ 
turns of the period may have exhibited any increase in the demand for 
pepper; but if our performances did not affect the market, I should say 
several families must have left off using it. And the most wonderful fact 
of all was that we never had anything in the house. w 

This is the description, unexaggerated, of the too common experi¬ 
ence of the American girl in her first attempt at housekeeping; and after 
a dreadful period of tears and despair over tough steaks, and joints 
roasted to cinders, and of humiliating efforts to straighten household 
finances, she finds that her only hope lies in patiently and systematically 
mastering the principles of cookery, of the keeping of household accounts, 
and, in fact, of all the departments of domestic economics. The fact 
that she may have a corps of servants at her command, to do the actual 
work, does not relieve her of the responsibility of knowing how the work 
of each should be properly done. For only by a thorough understand¬ 
ing of the minutest details of the household machinery, can she manage 
and direct it so that it will run smoothly, evenly, and with the least 
possible loss of energy, money, and, above all, good temper. 


99 


SYSTEM IN HOUSEKEEPING 

T he daily affairs of a household, large or small, should be systema¬ 
tized. A schedule of duties for each day of the week should be 
made out by the housekeeper, and she should see that this 
schedule is observed as strictly as is possible. With a good working 
plan as a guide, the mistress will be saved frequent repetition of di¬ 
rections, and the maid will know what is expected of her. Much of 
the trouble of domestic service is caused by indifference, indolence, 
and, too often, by ignorance on the part of the housekeeper, who per¬ 
haps requires one poor maid to do everything well, without definite 
instructions. 

There are certain routine duties which must be performed every 
day by either the housekeeper or a maid. First the kitchen fire must 
be made and the ashes taken up and sifted. The teakettle must be 
rinsed out, filled, and placed on the fire; the dining-room must be 
aired and the table set. Then the breakfast must be prepared and 
served. While breakfast is being eaten, the bedrooms should be air¬ 
ing, the beds having been opened and the bedclothes placed near 
an open window. 

After breakfast, the dishes should at once be washed and put away; 
the dining-room should be dusted, and the window shades drawn. 
The beds may then be made and the bedrooms be put in order. The 
sitting-room, hall, and other rooms, should be dusted, and any lamps 
requiring it should be filled and trimmed. If you live in the city, 
the vestibule and the sidewalk may require sweeping and perhaps 
washing. If the home is in the country, the front and back porches 
should be swept during the morning. They should also be washed 
frequently. In addition to this general routine, each day brings 
duties of its own. The order suggested here is followed in many 
families. Monday is washing-day. An energetic woman, if she begin 
early enough, should get the family washing out of the way by noon. 
Usually a laundress is employed, but when the one maid has every¬ 
thing to do, the mistress or her daughters usually assist with the 
lighter routine work. The ironing is done on Tuesday. Wednesday 
and Saturday are usually baking days. On Thursday and on Friday 
the sweeping is done. It is convenient to divide the sweeping so 
that the upper rooms are cleaned one day, the lower the next. 

An interested, energetic, and systematic housekeeper is far less 
likely to have a listless, indolent, and slovenly servant than is one who 

Lore* 


TOO 


THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A FINANCIER 


encourages these characteristics by example; nor is it example merely, 
but that psychic influence which each mind diffuses. Mere contact 
with an active mind acts as a stimulus upon a sluggish one. The 
mistress who lets her maid understand clearly what is expected of 
her, but who treats her as a rational human being, realizing that there 
is a limit to endurance, who is firm without nagging, pleasant without 
familiarity, is likely to receive cheerful and conscientious service. 


THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A FINANCIER 


T he first step in the line of domestic or business economy is to 
keep an account of all expenditures, that you may know for what 
purposes your money has been used. When possible, the wife 
should have a bank account in her name, and this account should 
represent the allowances made for all household and family expenses, 
with the exception of those things which the man of tfie 
house needs, and for which his own bank account provides. 
The wife’s allowance should be paid to her when the hus¬ 
band receives his salary or, if he is in business of his own, 
a certain amount should be paid to her regularly each 
month. A careful estimate should be made of what can 
: be afforded for table expenses, and this much may be 

reserved in cash, the remainder being placed in a bank. 



This system will save the trouble of keeping weekly 
accounts of anything except the table expenses. The 
purchases made for the house and for the wardrobe of 
the family are recorded on the stubs of checks; at the 
end of the month their cost may be computed and the 
; v >— amount be set down under their respective heads. Such 
a system will not succeed unless it is strictly followed. 
. It is a great aid to the wife in learning to live within her 
means, for she has at hand, at all times, the information by which 
she can better gauge the household expenses. The haphazard money 
arrangements of many families are the cause of much distress and 
regret. You frequently hear a careless housekeeper say: (< I don’t 
see where the money has gone. I must have lost some.” If she 
had kept a record of her accounts so that she could review them, 
she would doubtless see several ways in which she could have avoided 
some expenses without suffering any discomfort. 

In contemplating an important expenditure for the home, there 
are two points to be considered: the desirability of the proposed 
object, and its expense. In other words, <( Do we want it ? w and 





THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A FINANCIER 


101 


w Can we afford it ? w These questions should be weighed and de¬ 
cided with a strict reference to the income and the needs of the 
family. It should always be borne in mind that it is unsafe regu¬ 
larly to spend up to the limit of the income. You may set down so 
much for food, so much for clothes, so much for services, and so on; 
but you can never tell how much you may need in case of sickness. 
Many a family which has congratulated itself on living within its 
income suddenly realizes that nothing has been set aside to defray 
the expenses of a sudden call for the doctor and nurse. It is better 
to save a portion of the income, if you wish to feel secure and to 
avoid unpleasant experiences. 

There is another important matter which is liable to abuse: 
While true economy is always the saving of dollars and cents, it 
often means, too, the spending of money. Your own judgment will 
have to determine when such expenditures are justified. In the mat¬ 
ter of life insurance, for instance, you may get along without it and 
spend your money for something else, of which you think you stand 
in greater need for the time being; yet the time may come when 
the insurance will be worth more. Again, it often pays in the end 
to buy the higher-priced article, though by buying the cheaper, enough 
might be saved to purchase something else. # You will derive more 
genuine pleasure from a good piece of furniture than from a dozen 
cheap affairs which look well only while they are new. Economy 
then is largely a matter of judgment in buying, the means always 
serving as the index of what can be afforded. 

Putting aside each week or month a given sum for the table ex¬ 
penses of the family, and keeping the expenses within that limit, 
constitute the only sure way of controlling that branch of expenditures. 
But this given sum means an average. It may be the best economy 
to exceed it some months, as, for instance, when extra expense is 
involved in the purchase of a barrel of flour, or a quantity of sugar. 
It is often better to purchase such staples in quantities sufficient to 
last some length of time, especially if their price is ruling low in the 
market. Such purchases will extend over other months, and a reason¬ 
able average expense is thus maintained. 

If a housekeeper have a good storeroom, and is careful and syste¬ 
matic, she will find that she can economize very often by buying in 
quantities. Having a storeroom is not only a convenience, but it 
insures a saving of time, especially in case of sickness or bad weather. 


1 02 


THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A SANITARIAN 


THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A SANITARIAN 

I f cleanliness is anywhere next to godliness, it is in the house. It 
seems justifiable to modify the axiomatic saying so that it will read: 
(< In housekeeping cleanliness is godliness. ® Insects of all kinds 
delight in dust and dirt. Deprive them of this and they will gener¬ 
ally seek a home elsewhere. Better than all moth powders or balls 
is a good airing and brushing of garments and the washing or spong¬ 
ing of those that are soiled. If a housewife complains of the moths 
in her woolens and furs, and of the persistence of creatures name¬ 
less to polite ears, it is circumstantial evidence that there is careless¬ 
ness on her part in the management of her house. 

Two things should be strenuously enforced: absolute cleanliness 
in both the attic and the cellar. The former insures comfort to the 
household and the latter may serve to ward off a pestilence. All of 
this work must be intelligently overlooked by either the mistress or 
a trusted assistant. If the thousands who suffer from malaria would 
examine the cellars under their houses they would be likely to find there 
abundant breeding-places for germs. Cobwebs and dust and old rub¬ 
bish harbor vermin, while cellars reeking with dampness, or foul 
from badly constructed or neglected drains, are pestilence breeders. 
This is a phase of housekeeping involving not only a question of 
practical knowledge, but of eternal vigilance. Everyone ought to 
know the principles of keeping a house clean. 

In this field, as in others, science and art have come to the aid of 
the housekeeper, and have provided her with abundant material for 
saving time and labor in cleaning. Many labor-saving devices are 
advertised, and the housekeeper can usually determine by trial which 
are valuable. Soap, of course, -is the great stand-by. It has been said 
that the quantity of soap consumed by a nation must indicate in a 
measure the degree of civilization attained by its people. It is cer¬ 
tainly some index of the ways of the housekeeper. Kerosene oil and 
ammonia have also been found to be great labor-savers in cleaning. 
The many other substances that proved of value for different cleans¬ 
ing purposes cannot be enumerated here, yet the subject is worthy 
of much attention from the intelligent housekeeper. 

Sunlight and pure air are two of the most effective agencies for the 
health of body and mind. Many people, from choice or necessity, are 
within doors almost constantly, where little sunshine reaches them 
and where the air they breathe is laden with impurities of different 
kinds. The effect of such surroundings is shown in the drooping 
posture, pale countenance, and irritable disposition. This result is 


THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A NURSE IO - 

v_/ 

inevitable. It is chiefly the dangerous forms of life, the germs and 
the microbes, that flourish out of the sunlight. Every home, there¬ 
fore, which is shut off from sunshine, is subjected to the inroads of 
these organisms. Dark rooms are unfit for human beings to live in. 

There can be no more practical sanitarian than the neat house¬ 
wife. Her influence radiates in various directions. Her habits of 
cleanliness are inculcated in her children, and the man who has a 
clean home generally pays attention to the cleanliness of his office or 
place of business. As a sanitarian, the housekeeper has the health of 
her family in her hands. It is a responsibility which she cannot neg¬ 
lect with impunity. 

THE HOUSEKEEPER AS A NURSE 

T o her other offices, the wife and mother must add those of a nurse. 
In the sick-room, as in every other part of the house, she is the 
reigning spirit, and the patient under her charge owes as much 
to her careful nursing as to the skill of the physician. 

First of all she must have perfect confidence in the doctor, then, 
without listening to advice of well-meaning friends who recommend 
numerous remedies for the relief of the patient, she must obey his 
instructions implicitly. 

It requires firmness as well as gentleness to be a successful nurse, 
and it is very difficult for the mother to refuse the pleading of the 
child who cannot understand why he must be denied what his sick 
fancy craves. It is more difficult to care for the convalescent than 
for the patient who is very ill, because with returning strength he is 
very sure to grow restive under the necessary restraint, both in his 
desire to eat that which is harmful, and in overtaxing his strength 
by getting up when he should remain in bed. It is easier to manage 
a child in matters of this kind than to manage grown people who 
reason from their own standpoint. Sometimes the irritation caused 
by refusing to humor a patient is more injurious than the imprudence 
he is determined upon. It requires patience, unflagging devotion and 
physical strength, to fulfill satisfactorily the duties of a nurse. 

The nurse should be quiet in her manner, never whisper, but talk 
in a low, clear voice which can be distinctly heard without effort 
by the patient, whether he or some one else be the one addressed. 
It worries and frequently alarms a sick person to have others talk in 
whispers, as he imagines himself the subject of discussion and that 
they are keeping from him something about his condition. 

The problem of what the convalescent may have to eat when he 
begins to ask for food is not easily solved, for he is sure to rebel 


HOUSE CLEANING 


I 04 

against the things prescribed as sick diet. The nurse must, for this 
reason, try to make the proper food as tempting as possible, by hav¬ 
ing it daintily served in fine dishes, on a tray neatly covered with a 
white tray cloth or napkin. The cup must never be filled to over¬ 
flowing nor the plate overloaded, as either will be annoying to the 
sensitive patient and make him turn from the food in disgust. 

The care of the sick is wearing, not only upon the body but upon 
the nervous system as well, and for this reason the nurse must take 
both rest and exercise at regular intervals in order to retain her 
physical and mental strength. Where the patient is one of the fam¬ 
ily, the mental strain is all the greater, but so also are the powers of 
endurance. 


HOUSE CLEANING 

W ith the model housekeeper each day brings its demand for 
cleaning in some quarter. But however neatly a house may 
be kept, it requires especial putting in order at least once a 
year. In New England generally, and in many households through¬ 
out the country, this work is done both in spring and fall. 

If the matter be conducted quietly, there are many advantages in 
the double cleaning; as too often managed, however, such cleaning 
times become a terror to every one, and, above all, to the man of the 
house. To him it seems as if all home comforts were suspended. 
Irregular luncheons take the place of regular meals, and nothing is 
to be found in its customary place. Every room is a vision of step- 
ladders, brooms, dusters, and other implements of warfare upon dirt; 
the temper of the family is ruffled, and the whole household is in¬ 
volved in a whirl of scrubbing and renovating. 

When the house is all swept and garnished and order is again re¬ 
stored, the weary housekeeper, though thoroughly worn out herself, 
looks with something like contempt upon her slower neighbor who 
believes in taking more time and in making less confusion, and who 
finally emerges from the struggle with less fatigue, and with equally 
good results, so far as the accomplishment of her work is concerned. 
She has also a serene consciousness that the peace of the family has 
been but little disturbed. 

To accomplish the work by the more sensible method, too much 
should not be attempted at once. If one room is taken at a time 
and is finished before work is begun upon another, the whole house 
can be cleaned without difficulty and with little or no discomfort. 
It is always wise to wait until the necessity for furnace or stove 
fires is past before commencing the spring house cleaning. There 


HOUSE CLEANING 


io 5 

should be a perfect system in doing the work. Proceeding upon the 
theory that it is not necessary to turn the house into chaos, to upset 
the established order of domestic life, and to exile the family while 
the cleaning is in progress, a few suggestions may be in order. 

The first weeks of April, especially in New England, are likely to 
be windy, dusty, and generally too inclement to favor the periodical 
work of putting the house in order. It is well to wait, therefore, un¬ 
til late in the month before beginning the real campaign. Still, those 
earlier days can be profitably employed in (< taking stock, *— in look¬ 
ing over bundles, boxes, and trunks that have been stored away. 
Articles of clothing that have outlived their usefulness to the family 
should be given away, if of service to any one; if not they should be 
destroyed, for if allowed to remain in the house unused they will 
breed moths and collect dust. Winter clothing should be aired, brushed, 
and packed away, with lumps of camphor gum or a sprinkling of 
Dalmation powder to keep out the moths and buffalo bugs. Stout 
bags of manilla paper, securely tied, make an excellent protection 
for coats and furs, if you have not sufficient trunk or chest room. 
All closets should thus be put in order before the rooms are cleaned. 

If any rooms are to be papered or painted, it is economical to 
have the work done early, so as not to have such operations going on 
while the rest of the house is being cleaned. Such rooms when fin¬ 
ished can be shut up and are off the housekeeper’s hands. 

Housekeepers differ as to the part of the house in which the reg¬ 
ular cleaning should begin. Some prefer to begin in the attic and 
others in the cellar. It should certainly be one or the other. On 
the whole, the advantages lie in the cellar. If there is a furnace 
it must be cleaned, and as dust may escape through the pipes into 
the rooms above, it is well to get the furnace in order first. In 
too many houses the cellar is the one place in the house that is 
never cleaned, yet from a sanitary point of view, there is no part of 
the house in which cleaning should be so thoroughly done. Not 
a corner should be slighted. If the cellar is kept in fair order dur¬ 
ing the winter, and if ashes are regularly removed, there will be 
less dirt to clear away, but an abundance of dust will have collected 
everywhere, unless it also has been removed from time to time. 
The furnace should receive the first attention, and before cleaning 
it the registers should be closed in all the rooms. All ashes and 
cinders should be removed and the pipes should be cleaned, if possible. 

The smoke pipe is the only one that need be taken down, for it 
is liable to rust because of the moisture it gathers from the chimney 
during the summer. Every cellar window and door should be opened 
to admit the light and air. The ceilings, walls, and floors should then 


io 6 


HOUSE CLEANING 


be well swept, and it is a good thing to treat the walls with white¬ 
wash at least once in two years. The windows should be washed, 
and any closets or shelves should be well cleaned. The cellar should 
not be left until every corner and crevice is free from dirt. 

It is well to paint with black enamel varnish the iron parts of the 
furnace to keep them from rusting, and the pipes will last much 
longer if kept painted. It is also well to keep a tub of charcoal and 
another of lime in the cellar; they make it sweeter and dryer. The 
unslaked lime should be placed in a tub or barrel, which will allow 
it to expand to twice its bulk, as it takes up the moisture. 

The cleaning operation should then be transferred to the attic. In 
many houses the attic seems to be regarded as a place into which any 
old rubbish can be thrown, and which will never require cleaning. 
Like the cellar, it may become a source of contamination to the whole 
house. If the attic is kept in good shape, it is the proper place for 
keeping a great many articles when they are not in use. Any parts 
used for storage should be thoroughly cleaned, and should be saturated 
with naphtha before the contents are replaced. Clothing, quilts, or old 
carpets should be hung on the line for thorough airing before being 
carried back to their places. The walls, ceilings, and windows should 
be cleaned as carefully as are those in any other part of the house, and 
the whole apartment should be well aired before articles are replaced. 

From the top of the house you should work downward, taking the 
bedrooms first, then the rooms on the lower floor, never forgetting to 
arrange each day’s task so that it will interfere as little as possible 
with the comfort of the family. 

That part of the work most dreaded is the taking up and clean¬ 
ing of carpets. In the city, the yards are not sufficiently large for 
beating the carpets, and it is much better to have all rugs and carpets 
taken away by those who make a business of this work. These 
cleaners will come, take the carpets up, clean and relay them, thus 
saving the housekeeper much trouble, and at small expense. In the 
country, the carpets can be beaten in the yard, or may be' taken to 
a near-by vacant lot. 

On taking up a carpet, it is advisable to have two strong sheets at 
hand, one in which to roll the carpet, and another for the lining. 
The lining should be swept on both sides, piled up and covered with 
the sheet. The carpet should be either spread out on the grass, or 
hung on a line and thoroughly cleaned with the excellent wire beater 
which is sold for this purpose, or with a strong switch or ra> 
tan. It should then be swept on both sides, and left to air for a 
time. It should, however, be carefully watched for moths. It is a 
good plan to iron the edges and corners of the carpets with irons not 


HOUSE CLEANING 


107 


heated to the scorching point. A damp cloth may be placed under 
the iron, and the steam will penetrate every crevice and aid in kill¬ 
ing the moths. This may be done two or three times a year. When 
the house is to be closed for any length of time, tobacco or camphor, 
or both, should be sprinkled about, especially in the corners. 

Hardwood floors and mattings greatly lessen the labors of the 
housekeeper, for* the floors can thus be kept much cleaner during the 
entire year, and the house-cleaning period becomes a much simpler 
matter. Stained floors should not be swept. A soft brush will take 
off the dust, if it has been allowed to accumulate, but all that is 
really needed is a wiping over with a soft cloth every day or two, 
and an occasional polishing with turpentine and beeswax. These can 
either be mixed at home, or may be bought prepared for use. A 
very little linseed oil applied now and then revives the stain. 

The best way to keep linoleum in order is to dust it regularly 
and to rub it over once or twice a week with a little linseed oil or 
buttermilk. It should never be scrubbed. When necessary to remove 
black marks, use plenty of soft, soapy water and a piece of old 
flannel, but the linoleum should be rinsed well and carefully dried 
with a soft cloth. Soiled matting can be washed on both sides with 
salt and water. Care must be taken not to use a cloth that is too 
wet, nor to scrub the matting with a brush. 

As the closets should have been cleaned and put in order at the 
outset, they will not trouble the housekeeper when she comes to the 
bedrooms. The closet doors should be closed so that the clothes 
within may be protected from dust during the cleaning of the ad¬ 
joining room. In cleaning a bedroom, the mattresses and pillows 
are, of course, dusted and brushed in the open air. Bed slats should 
be thoroughly scrubbed, and it is advisable to paint them lightly on 
both sides with corrosive sublimate. This is very poisonous and should 

*" 

be used with great care. It is better to wear gloves when handling it. 

The living-rooms on the first floor should, if it is practicable, be 
cleaned one at a time, thus avoiding confusion.. All of the ornaments, 
and as much of the furniture as possible, should be removed. If a • 
piano or other heavy piece of furniture is left in the room, it must 
be carefully covered to protect it from all dust. Many housekeepers 
fail to see that the dinginess of the furniture results from constantly 
rubbing dust from it. They allow it to receive a heavy coating at 
each sweeping, and destroy a part of the polish at every cleaning. 

Window draperies should be taken to the yard for a thorough 
shaking and airing. If they are not to be hung again, they should 
be folded carefully, wrapped in sheets and packed away. The shades 
should be taken down and wiped with a clean cloth and should not 


MARKETING 


108 

be replaced until the room is cleaned. The walls, especially if papered, 
may be dusted with a long-handled, soft brush, or with a cloth tied 
over a broom. 

The annual cleaning given to the kitchen and pantry should come 
last, but, if they have been properly cared for during the year, they 
will require little special effort. They should always be kept scrupu¬ 
lously clean. The china and the china closet should be cleared of 
every particle of dirt. Pots and kettles should receive an extra scrub¬ 
bing and airing, and fresh papers should be put upon the shelves. 

It is impossible in any written directions to cover all details of the 
annual cleaning. Each intelligent housewife will make her system 
conform to the needs of the household. 


MARKETING 


H ousekeepers of to-day in the cities and large towns are inclined 
to regard the market and grocery boys who call at thuir doors 
for orders as a great convenience, and so they are — if they 
can be afforded. Such careless marketing, however, is always ex¬ 
travagant. You may think that you have neither the time nor 
the strength for a daily, or even for a weekly, visit to the markets, 
but you will find in the end that you can easily (< make the time,” 

id in doing so, save yourself many disappointments. 
You will add to the attractiveness of your table, 
and at the same time be benefited by the 
morning outing. 

In ordering from the house, you are at 
the disadvantage of not knowing what va¬ 
rieties the markets afford, and you have not 
the opportunity to compare prices. At the 
market all of the articles are spread out be¬ 
fore you, and varieties are suggested which you 
would not think of at home. You will also see 
that your purchases are properly weighed and trimmed 
and that you get all that you pay for. There is much waste, 
for instance, in trimming a roast, and the pieces cut off are rarely 
sent with the meat, yet this waste makes excellent soup material, and 
should always be used. 

The buying of meats and vegetables being an important matter, it 
is best to make every effort at the start to find a trustworthy 
marketman, and one who seems anxious to learn your ways. As a 
rule, it is better to choose a market that is patronized by several 



MARKETING 


109 


grades of customers, for the butcher or the grocer who has customers 
to whom he can sell what you do not want, is likely to take more 
pains to meet your wishes. For this reason, if there is a large public 
market convenient to your home, it is better to go to that than to 
the smaller ones which cater to one kind of trade. Those cities 
which have established public markets have found that in several 
ways they are a great convenience to the people. 

When you have found a good marketman, patronize him regularly, 
and he will soon learn your requirements, and will give better ser¬ 
vice than if the orders are irregular. If some day you find it incon¬ 
venient to go to market, you can send your order to this marketman 
and be sure of having it filled to your satisfaction, because he will not 
only know what is expected, but will be especially careful with the 
orders of a regular customer. 

One writer tells of a delightful visit she once made to a country 
house where the domestic machinery ran with the utmost smoothness, 
though the housekeeper was providing for a party of sixteen, in addi¬ 
tion to her regular family. Being of a practical turn of mind, she 
asked the hostess how she could give her time uninterruptedly to her 
guests and pay no apparent attention to her housekeeping or the 
marketing. The housekeeper told her that before her visitors had 
arrived she had carefully planned a menu for each day. A copy had 
been given to the cook, who was very skilful, and another copy to 
the marketman, who brought the supplies each day as they were 
needed. The housekeeper felt sure that her orders would be properly 
carried out each day, so that she could devote her time to the enter¬ 
tainment of her guests. This illustrates well not only the advantage 
of having a marketman who knows your tastes, but the value of a 
system in housekeeping. 

Mistakes and errors sometimes occur in the best shops; a certain 
amount of patience is essential in marketing, and it is well to remem¬ 
ber that every one cannot always have the best cuts. If the market- 
man cannot furnish the desired article, something else can be substi¬ 
tuted. 


SELECTING MEATS 

In selecting meats, experience and knowledge are required. It 
will pay you to make a study of a quarter of beef, for instance, so 
as to be able to tell where the best cuts are, or so that you may know, 
when a slice of meat is sent to you, from what portion of the beef 
it came. There is a great difference in cuts from the same sirloin, 
or from the rump, or from the round. This is something which can 
be learned only from practical observation and experience. Direc- 


I I o 


MARKETING 


tions on paper can scarcely teach one to distinguish between cuts. 
Observe the piece from which your butcher cuts a steak, note from 
what portion he cuts it, and when you have tried several cuts in 
this way and have closely observed their quality, you will be able to 
tell what kind of cut you wish. 

The best beef is of a bright red color, veined with white, and with 
a moderate amount of whitish outside fat. The flesh should have a 
firm, smooth, open grain. The sirloin and the porterhouse cuts make 
the best steaks. The names given to these cuts vary in different lo¬ 
calities. In some places the whole loin is divided into three sections: 
(i) The tip end of the sirloin, (2) the second cut of sirloin, (3) the 
first cut of sirloin. In others, the loin is divided into two portions, 
one the sirloin, the other the porterhouse. Beginning with the shank 
or leg of a hind quarter, the next cut is called the vein, and next to 
that is the round. Then comes a triangular cut which is called the 
rump, the back of which is sometimes called a large sirloin, or a hip 
roast. Next to the rump comes the loin. The smaller part of the 
loin is called the porterhouse or short steak. 

If you will examine a hind quarter of beef and mark out with 
your eye the various divisions, you will find that you will be greatly 
aided in selecting your meats. Knowing that sirloins are favorite 
cuts, some marketmen will cut their beef so as to make a large part 
of the rump do for sirloin. You will be attracted by the lower price, 
but you will note that the cut is a very large one. As a rule, the 
smaller the cut from the loin the better the quality of the steak. If 
you have a large family, however, and must be economical, yoil will 
find that some rump cuts make very good steaks. 

The rib roasts are cut from the fore quarter, next to the porter¬ 
house steak of the hind quarter. A roast from the porterhouse end 
of the loin is of course much better, but it is much more expensive. 
Round steak makes good rolled beef, beef tea, Hamburg steak, or 
stew. The round is usually tough, and needs much cooking, but it 
has a good flavor and contains very little waste. The rump is excel¬ 
lent for a pot roast, beef-a-la-modc , braised or corned beef. If beef is 
kept for a certain time, it acquires a better quality and is more ten¬ 
der than when freshly cut. 

Veal is generally more expensive than beef, and it requires more 
flavoring and longer cooking. Good veal has pink meat and firm 
white fat. The best cuts are the loin and the ribs which constitute 
roasts and chops. From the leg are cut steaks, cutlets, and a solid 
piece, boned, for a stuffed roast. The neck is used for stew. 

The best roasts of mutton come from the leg, though good ones may 
be cut from the loin or from the fore quarter. Stews and broths are 


MARKETING 


111 


made from the neck and breast. French chops look well on the table, 
but they are more costly, as they are cut from the ribs and are weighed 
before the bones are trimmed. The loin chops are more economical 
and are generally tender and have little waste. .Mutton is in season 
the year round, while lamb comes only from May to September. 
Lamb is cut like mutton, and, being immature, the meat should be very 
thoroughly cooked. 

If you have a good storeroom, it is often economical to buy a hind 
quarter of mutton, which will cost very much less than if you buy 
it piecemeal. The part of the quarter which will spoil first is the 
flank. The ribs and loin will come next, but the leg will keep for 
many weeks if hung in a cold, dry place. It is better to cut off the 
flank and the thin end of the ribs at once. They can be trimmed of 
the fat and used for soup stock. Meanwhile you may cut off the 
chops as needed, and you will generally get from a dozen to fourteen. 
Then you have the leg for a roast when desired. Of course, the mut¬ 
ton cannot be served at every meal, as the family would tire of it. 
Study to bring it in at proper intervals and it will always be found 
delicious. You can generally save about one-third on the cost of the 
meat by buying in this way. You will need for the cutting a good, 
sharp knife, a meat saw and a cleaver. 

There are different opinions regarding the use of pork, which is a 
heat-producing food. Many people think it should be used sparingly, 
and in winter only. Fresh pork ribs and loin supply the best roasts 
and chops. The flesh should be pale red with white fat. Salt pork, 
bacon, ha;m, and sausage, are the best forms of pork. They are all 
inexpensive, and by most people can safely be used in moderation, 

' and with a mixed diet. Salt pork and bacon are much used in the 
preparation of other meats. 

The most experienced housekeeper is likely to be deceived in pur¬ 
chasing poultry, and you should be able to depend upon the word of 
your marketman as to the age of the fowl. Good chickens have a 
yellow skin, plump breasts and soft, yellow feet. Broilers should 
weigh from one to two pounds. 

No article of food is more easily digested than fish. All fish should 
be carefully washed and salted as soon as it reaches the kitchen. It 
should be kept in a cool place, and it is better, if possible, not to keep 
it in a refrigerator in which are kept butter and milk, as the latter 
articles readily absorb the odor of the fish. 

It is much easier to buy good vegetables than good meat, for 
stale vegetables are more easily detected. You cannot be sure of 
obtaining fresh vegetables, however, unless you visit the market 
yourself, or unless your marketman understands that you will not 


I I 2 


TABLE SERVICE 


trade with him if he brings you poor supplies. The average market 
is well supplied with vegetables, and a good variety can be secured 
throughout the year. Generally, a good quality of peas, tomatoes, 
beans and corn can be bought cheaply by the dozen or half-dozen 
cans. With a cellar or storeroom well stocked with canned vegetables 
and fruits, the housekeeper always has something to fall back upon in 
case of an emergency. But fresh vegetables are always preferable, 
and should be used abundantly, especially in summer, when lighter 
and simpler foods are desirable. 


TABLE SERVICE 

I n even a very modest household, where no attempt at fashionable 
living is made, the dinner is pleasanter if conducted with at least 
some slight formality. With a little system in the general house¬ 
hold management, it is as easy to have the table properly laid and 
the dinner served in an orderly way, as to have things conducted in 
the confused and irregular manner often seen in families where but 
one servant is employed. The maid of all work may not be able to 

serve at table with the thoroughness of a butler, and perform her du¬ 

ties as cook at the same time, but with careful management she may 
do the heavier part so that the meal may pass smoothly, which is 
the main thing. Nothing is more annoying than jumping up from 
the table for forgotten articles. Let us confine ourselves at first to 
considering the home which has but one servant. 

Let the table be carefully laid before the meal is prepared. Let 
the tumblers, one at each place, be at uniform distance from the edge 
of the table. A cold plate, a napkin, knives, forks and spoons in 
number according to the dinner, are laid at each place. Knives and 

spoons are placed at the right hand, forks at the left. 

Cold plates,— one for each person,— are laid first upon every 
well-spread table. Upon these are placed smaller plates containing 
the oysters or other appetizers. These are brought in and placed be¬ 
fore the dinner is announced. If oysters are served, a quarter of a 
large lemon, or the half of a small one, should be placed on the 
plate. The oyster fork is removed with the oyster plates. 

When soup is to follow the oysters, the soup plates should be 
placed where they will become warm before the time for sending 
them to the table. When the oysters have been eaten, remove the 
plates, leaving the under ones to receive those containing the soup. 
The pile of soup plates should then be set before the hostess, and the 


TABLE SERVICE 


I >3 

tureen of soup, its cover removed to a side table, should be placed in 
front of the plates. The hostess then ladles the soup into each plate, 
which should never be more than half filled, while the waiter, hav¬ 
ing first folded a napkin over her thumb, places each plate upon a 
tray, and carries it at once to the right of the person designated. 
There she sets it down upon the cool plate already in place. 

The rules governing the passing of food are simple. When there 
is no choice to be made by the person served, the waiter carries 
everything to his right side, and when she is to remove any¬ 
thing from before a guest at the table, she should lift it while stand¬ 
ing at that person’s right side. But when a guest is to help himself 
from a dish, the waiter should carry the dish to his left side, and 
should hold it very near to, or upon, the table, while the person serves 
himself. 

While the soup is on the table, the waiter arranges the roast upon 
its platter, which should be of ample size. If a gravy spoon is to 
be used, it should be placed upon the platter. The waiter then brings 
in the vegetables, and the gravy boat, and places them upon a side 
table. Then going to the right of each pers'on, she removes the soup 
plates and takes away the under plate with it. Hot plates for the 
meat are then brought in. For the host’s convenience, these plates 
should be placed upon his left side, unless he occupies a carver’s 

chair, in which case they may be set directly in front of him. The 

* 

host ascertains the preference of his guests for rare or well-done 
cuts, and, as soon as the first plate is helped, the waiter, thumb nap¬ 
kin in place, lifts the plate and carries it to the person mentioned 
by the host. 

Then while more meat is being carved by the host, the waiter 
places upon her tray one vegetable dish, and the gravy boat, and 
carries them to the left of the guest who has been served to meat. 
After the guest has helped himself from these dishes, the waiter sets the 
tray upon a side table and carries another cut of the meat whither 
the host directs. This is followed, as before, with the vegetable and 
the'gravy. When all present have been thus helped, another vege¬ 
table is passed around on a tray, and this is followed in the same 
manner by whatever other vegetables there may be. 

At a table arranged for the service of one waiter, olives and such 
relishes are then passed, usually from one person to another. When 
the meat course is finished, the waiter places the carving knife, fork, 
and gravy spoon upon the platter and carries it away. Then the 
plates, with the knives and forks laid across them, are removed. It 
is better to take only one in each hand. The salad is then brought 
in. The mistress usually serves this, and places the dressing upon it. 


TABLE SERVICE 


i T 4 

After the salad course, the tray cloths are removed, all eatables 
except fruit and nuts are taken away, and the table is brushed free 
from crumbs. Finger bowls placed on little doilies upon dessert 
plates may now be brought to the table. If these plates are to 
be used for dessert, the bowls and doilies may be drawn away to the 
left. But if a pudding is served, the finger bowl and plate must be 
set to the left side of the guest by the waiter and the pudding set 
down from the right side. Finger bowls should be not quite half 
filled, and the water should not be perfumed, though if desired a 
slice of lemon or a sweet geranium leaf may be placed afloat on the top. 
Coffee is served last in small cups, brought in on a tray and passed 
around to the guests. The sugar and the cream are placed near the 
hostess and passed to those who desire them. 

There are many little rules and modes of procedure with which 
the expert waitress should be familiar, and there will always be some 
matters of individual taste suggested by the mistress of the household. 
A few of the generally approved regulations, besides those indicated 
in the service of the dinner already described, may be mentioned. In 
setting a table, the edge of a knife should be turned toward the 
plate; the bowls of spoons and the tines of forks should be turned 
upward. Knives and forks should be placed in the order in which 
they are to be used and those first required should be at the out¬ 
side. 

All glasses should be placed at the right; napkins and bread-and- 
butter plates, or small butter plates, at the left. Carvers, fish-slice and 
fork, and such things should be left on a side table until needed. Then 
they should be placed quietly and quickly, the knife at the right of 
the platter and the fork at the left. 

Extra plates, glasses, knives, forks, and spoons should be in readi¬ 
ness on the sideboard. A meal must not be announced until every¬ 
thing which is or may be needed, is ready. 

Everything not too large to rest comfortably on a serving tray 
should be handed from it. Everything relating to only one course 
must be removed before serving another. The maid must not leave 
the dining-room until sure that there is nothing more for her 
to do. 

The proper placing of a side table makes every difference in the 
serving of a meal. A small table at each end of the room is often 
desirable. This affords a proper place to put down a vegetable or 
other dish without going the whole length of the room. A waitress 
should know the different sauces, and the correct manner of serving. 
Then, for instance, if game be served without a sauce, she may offer 
dressed celery or lettuce to be taken on the same plate. 


CARE OF SILVER —CARVING 


J1 5 

If a hot sauce and a salad are both served, she will provide an 
extra plate for the salad. Except in case of an accident which she can¬ 
not remedy, the maid should not speak to the hostess, who must be 
perfectly free to entertain her guests without any further thought 
about the dinner. 


CARE OF SILVER 

W hen silver is to be polished, first rub it with some perfectly 
smooth cleaning powder, mixed with a little alcohol and water. 
Soft cloths or chamois are suitable for this purpose. After 
being thoroughly rubbed, the silver should be rinsed in boiling water, 
and then be dried quickly. 

Silver vegetable dishes and soup tureens are preferable to those 
of china. Not only do the silver dishes keep the contents hot, but 
they are not breakable, and a dent may be remedied at small cost. 
They are easily kept clean. A plunge into scalding water, and a quick 
drying afterward, and an occasional rubbing with a piece of chamois or 
flannel, will generally keep them bright. 

Stains on silver can often be removed by rubbing them with 
common baking soda and salt, moistened with a little water. This is 
especially good for the removal of egg stains. 


CARVING 

S kilful carving is one of the most useful accomplishments the 
master of the house can possess, and where only one servant is 
kept, it is a very necessary one. To carve well requires both 
study and practice, and the host who has not mastered the art of 
carving easily will be wise to do this in the kitchen. Only a few of 
the general principles can be suggested in an article of this kind. 

The chair placed for the carver should be high enough to allow 
the work to be done comfortably without his being obliged to stand. 
The platter should be large enough to hold the entire joint or bird 
when carved, without crowding. 

The skewers should be removed before placing the meat on the 
table, and the carving knife must have a sharp edge. Nothing is 
more annoying to the carver than a dull knife; and to the guest, or 
members of the family, than using the steel to improve it. 

In serving a large bird, such as a goose or a turkey, place the 
head always to the left. Smaller birds, such as partridge or grouse, are 
placed across the platter and the heads should be on the farther side. 


CARVING 


1 1 6 

A saddle of mutton should be placed with the tail end next to the 
carver. A haunch of venison or mutton should lie with the backbone 
or loin nearest the carver. A leg of mutton or lamb, or a knuckle of 
veal, should have the thickest part toward the back of the platter, but 
a shoulder of mutton or veal should have the thickest part upward. 
A rib or sirloin roast should be placed with the backbone at the 
right end of the platter, while a round of beef should lie with the 
flesh side up. A sirloin beefsteak should have the tenderloin next 
the carver. The thickest end of a fillet of beef should be at the 

right end of the platter. A calf’s head should lie with the face 

to the right, and a roast pig with the face to the left. The 
thickest part of a roast ham should be on the farther side of the 
platter. 

When the rib roast is properly placed before you, put the fork in 
the middle and cut down to the ribs close to the backbone. The 
thick gristle near the backbone will be next cut off. Then from the 
side nearest the carver will be cut thin, even slices, parallel with 
the ribs, and the knife will be run under them to separate them from 
the bone. A sirloin roast will be sliced in the same way, a cut being 
made at the flank end, as well as near the backbone, to separate the 

slices. Be careful to serve the crisp fat with the rare slices, for this 

adds to the richness of the flavor. 

To carve a beefsteak, your eye should be trained to know the best 
parts, and all of the best should not be served to one or two persons. 
First, cut out the tenderloin close to the bone and cut into long nar¬ 
row pieces. Then cut the other part from the bone and cut into 
strips. Serve a part of each, and serve fat to those who desire it. 

To carve a leg of mutton or, lamb, or a knuckle of veal, put the 
fork in the top, turn it toward you and cut slices through to -the 
bone. Then slip the knife under and cut slices from the bone. The 
under side may be sliced in the same manner. A saddle of mutton 
must be carved with the grain of the meat in long, thin slices from 
• each side of the back. It will have to be partly turned over to reach 
the tenderloin and kidney fat. Some recommend carving a saddle of 
mutton by putting the knife under the meat to cut it away from the 
bone, and afterward dividing the meat in thin chops, fat and lean 
together. 

The leg and saddle of venison are carved in the same manner as 
the leg and saddle of mutton. When the leg and loin are served 
together, the loin should be carved before the leg. First cut off the 
flank, then separate the ribs, and afterward carve the leg. 

A forequarter of lamb should have the ribs sawed through before 
it is cooked. The carving fork should be placed firmly near the 


CARVING 


T I 7 


knuckle, and then you should cut all around the leg- and up on the 
shoulder. Lift the leg from the shoulder and cut till you reach the 
joint. Cut through this joint, and then from left to right, separating 
the lower from the under part of the breast. Take out the blade, if 
it has not already been removed, and divide the ribs. A rib and a 
piece of brisket may be served to each person. 

Roast ham should be cut from the thickest part down to the bone 
in thin slices, and the fat and the crust should be served with each 
slice. In carving tongue, the tip or thin part should be carved 
lengthwise. The center, which is the finest part, should be carved 
across in thin slices. 

In carving either the roast, the leg, or loin, of pork, the knife must 
follow the direction of the lines scored by the cook before the meat 
was roasted, on the skin which forms the crackling. This skin is too 
crisp to be conveniently cut through. If the cook has scored the 
lines too far apart for single cuts, the crackling may be raised, and 
the meat then sliced. 

It is well to study the anatomy of a turkey sufficiently to find out 
where the joints are located, but theory is not what is needed so much 
as practice. A fork should never be put through the back of a fowl. 
In carving a turkey, free the ends of the drumsticks from the body. 
Insert the carving fork across the middle of the breastbone and 
remove the leg from one side, cutting close to the body, and through 
the joint. Then remove the wing from that side, and shave off the 
breast in thin slices. Turn the bird over and with the point of the 
knife remove the (< oyster,which is a dainty morsel contained in 
a small cavity of the bone on each side of the lower part of the 
back. The small dark portion found on the side bone may also be 
removed. Removing the fork from the breast, divide the legs and 
wings. Cut through the skin, and with a spoon remove a portion of 
the stuffing. Serve light or dark meat, as preferred, and a spoonful 
of the dressing. If carved in this way, one side of the turkey can 
be left entire and it will present a fair appearance for another meal. 
When the whole turkey is required, take off the legs and wings from 
both sides, and slice the breast before removing the fork. 

In carving a goose, the flesh of the breast is usually sliced first on 
either side of the bone. The wings are cut off next, and then the 
legs. The breast of a roast goose, or of a roast duck, should be cut 
parallel to the breastbone. 

Small birds, when not served whole, may be cut from the neck to 
the end of the breast and down through the backbone. To carve a 
large partridge, cut off the leg and wing from one side, and then from 
the other. Leg and wing should be served together. Remove the 


FLOUR 


118 

breast from the back, and cut through the middle. When the birds 
are smaller, serve one-half to each person. 

In serving fish, learn to cut neatly and to leave the backbone on 
the platter. Cut to the bone and serve; then remove the bone.to 
one side and carve the lower half. 


FLOUR 

I n this country, where good bread made from spring or fall wheat 
is within the reach of every household, we seldom give a thought 
to the fact that, after all, only a small portion of the people of 
the earth enjoy this food. 

In the remoter parts of Sweden, the people bake their rye bread 
twice a year, and store the loaves away for future use, so that even¬ 
tually they become as hard as bricks. Still farther north, bread is 
made from barley and oats. In Lapland, oats with the inner bark of 
the pine, is used. The two well ground and mixed together are made 
into flat cakes and cooked in a pan over the fire. The Icelander 
scrapes the moss from the rocks and grinds it into a fine flour which 
serves for both bread and puddings. In some parts of Siberia, and 
in the northern countries of Asia, a fairly good bread is made from 
buckwheat, a flour with which we are familiar in our own country. 
In parts of Italy, chestnuts are cooked and ground into a meal, which 
is used for making bread. Rice bread is the staple food of the Chi¬ 
nese, the Japanese, and a large portion of the inhabitants of India. 
In Persia, the bread is made from rice flour and milk. In the Molucca 
Islands, the starchy pith of the sago palm furnishes a white and floury 
meal. In some countries, bread is made from various roots, which, 
after being soaked and dried, are ground into flour. Thus it appears 
that our familiar wheat flour is peculiar to the more civilized portion 
of the inhabitants of the world. 

But while wheat flour is a great staple, it varies considerably in 
quality. Too many young housekeepers are disposed to regard all 
flour as alike. As a matter of fact, much of the lack of success in 
cooking comes from this inability on the part of the purchaser to 
distinguish between the different qualities. The young cook, ambi- 
tious to succeed, decides to try some recipe which has been recom¬ 
mended to her. This demands one or two cups of flour, as the case 
may be, a certain quantity of milk or water, and of shortening; she 
flatters herself that if she follows the recipe carefully she will achieve 
a satisfactory result. This, however, will depend very largely upon 
whether she is using the same kind of flour that was used by 


FLOUR 


TI 9 

the cook who wrote the recipe. The directions might be followed 
with the greatest care and yet the result be unfit for the table. 

There are not only various brands of flour, but variations occur 
in the same brand. Most of the differences are caused by the differ¬ 
ent processes of making flour; yet under the same treatment the 
products of spring or winter wheat will differ. 

When flour is made by the roller process, two cupfuls will make 
a much stiffer batter than will the same quantity of flour made by 
the old process of grinding. Again, flour-makers all over the coun¬ 
try are constantly introducing new machinery into their mills, and 
thus bringing about changes in their processes. In the eastern states, 
where mills are few, the flour used comes mostly from the northwestern 
states and is chiefly made by the roller process. It is also generally 
made from spring wheat. If rubbed between the fingers, it feels rough 
and granular, and if pressed in the hand it will not hold its shape 
perfectly but will fall apart. This flour requires more moistening in 
the mixing than is required for flour made by the grinding process. 

Many of the mills in the middle western states are now using 
both processes. The wheat is first rolled and then ground very fine 
and smooth. Such brands can be used equally well for bread, cake, 
and pastry. 

Flour that is made from new spring wheat will not produce as good 
bread at first as after it has been kept for a month or more. A 
barrel of flour that will not make good bread when first opened may 
in two months produce an excellent loaf. 

Many housekeepers, especially at certain seasons when flour is likely 

to spoil, buy in small quantities, and the first baking from each new 

supply is an experiment. An experienced housekeeper can tell from 

% 

the way in which flour (< wets up w how it should be used. It is not so 
essential to follow a recipe closely as to know just how thick the batter 
should be to produce the desired result. In the colder months, it is 
better to buy flour in larger quantities, as it usually improves with age. 

Flour of all kinds can be kept in good condition only in a cool, 
dry place, and it must be kept closely covered to exclude dust and 
insects. A wooden flour bin, with a closely fitting lid, is a good re¬ 
ceptacle for flour in dry, cool climates; but the tin bins or cans, that 
may be washed clean and put out of doors to sun and air, are the 
best vessels to use for this purpose in warm or moist climates. 

The housekeeper should know also that the whitest flour is not the 
most nutritious. What is called the first quality of flour does not 
contain so large a quantity of the best elements of the wheat as does 
the second quality, which is much darker, and which gives a sweeter 
and more nutritious loaf. Indeed, the entire-wheat flour, which is 


1 20 


BREAD MAKING 


very dark, is the most nutritious, though many do not like the bread 
that is made from it. The wise housekeeper will at least keep entire- 
wheat flour on hand and vary the bread diet with it. The fine qual¬ 
ity of flour that is so commonly used, undoubtedly yields too little of 
what the system needs, and too much of what it does not need in 
such large quantities. 


BREAD MAKING 

A s UREAD is the staple article of diet, no meal being complete with¬ 
out it, there are infallible rules for making bread which every 
housekeeper should learn. 

First of all is the selection of the flour used, as satisfactory re¬ 
sults can be obtained only with good material. Good yeast is equally 
essential, as upon it depends the lightness of the loaf. Heavy bread 
is neither palatable nor wholesome. The yeast used in bread mak¬ 
ing must be of the purest and best to insure success. Vague ideas 
exist in the minds of many as to what yeast is. It is a microscopic 
plant of the lowest order, several varieties of which are known to 
scientists. Some of these are improved by careful cultivation, and 
these pure yeast cultures, sold as compressed yeast, when fresh and 
good, are considered the best. Yeast, being a plant, is subject to the 
same laws of growth as other plants. Extreme heat and cold are alike 
fatal to it. This explains the fact that when bread dough is mixed 
with too hot a liquid, or is frozen, it fails to rise. 

The most interesting process in bread making is the planting of 
the yeast in the warm dough, and the power which the yeast has in 
its growing to raise the mass. This it does in the following manner: 
The flour contains starch. The yeast, in growing, converts a portion 
of this starch into dextrin, a kind of sugar, and, continuing its work, 
the sugar is further changed into alcohol and carbon dioxide, a gas 
which puffs up the dough. This is alcoholic fermentation, and is the 
same process as that which makes all fermented liquors. If the proc¬ 
ess is stopped at this time, either by stirring the dough or by baking, 
the bread remains sweet, but if allowed to continue its course un¬ 
checked, after a time acetic fermentation begins and sour bread is 
the result. 

In mixing the ingredients, care must be taken to have the right 
proportion of each constituent part. Flour, salt, yeast, and milk, or 
milk and water, are absolutely necessary in the process of bread mak¬ 
ing. A little butter and sugar is used by most housekeepers to over¬ 
come the toughness of the loaf. The liquid used in mixing the bread 
should be lukewarm, as the yeast is easily scalded, or chilled, and in 


THE CARE OF FOOD 


I 2 i 


either case will not raise the loaf. The following rule if carefully 
observed, will bring good results: 

Sift the flour into a large pan or bowl. Put the sugar, salt, and 
butter in the bottom of the bread pan, or into another bowl, and pour 
on a spoonful or two of boiling water, enough to dissolve all; add the 
quart of wetting and the yeast. Now stir in slowly two quarts of the 
flour. Cover with a cloth and set in a temperature of from seventy- 
five to eighty degrees, to rise till morning. 

Bread mixed at nine o’clock in the evening will be ready to mold 
into loaves or rolls by six the next morning. In summer it would 
be necessary to find a cool place, in winter a warm one; for the chief 
point is to keep the temperature even. If mixed early in the morning 
it should be ready to mold and bake early in the afternoon. This 
first mixture is called sponge. To finish the bread, stir in enough 
flour from the two quarts remaining to make a dough. Flour the 
molding board and turn out. 

Now begin the kneading, which is a process not easily described. 
By it the dough is made tender and fine grained. The process is 
best learned by observation of some one skilled in the art, and by 
practice. The dough should be of such consistency that the merest 
dusting of the board and hands with flour will suffice. Too much 
flour added at this stage would make the finished loaf hard and dry. 
Knead with the palm of the hand or with the knuckles as much as 
possible. The dough quickly becomes a flat cake. Fold it over and 
continue the process for about twenty minutes. Thorough kneading 
is a great element of success in bread making. 

The dough should be equally divided, made into loaves, and cov¬ 
ered with a cloth. When light, they should be baked in a slow oven. 
The fire should last through the entire baking, as adding fuel will 
cool the oven and cause the bread to fall. Bread that is baked one 
hour is better than that which is taken out earlier. When the bread 
is baked and taken from the oven it should be placed in a standing 
position and lightly covered, so that it will not cool too quickly. It 
must be perfectly cold before it is put into the bread box. 


. THE CARE OF FOOD 

T he young housekeeper may acquire great skill in buying provisions 
economically, and yet lose much by failing to properly take care 
of what she purchases. It need not be said that perfect cleanli¬ 
ness is necessary for the preservation of food, and for the avoidance 
of the dangers of contamination by disease germs. The cellar, the 


122 


UTILIZING REMNANTS 


pantry, and all places where provisions are kept, should be care¬ 
fully watched, so that the food may be surrounded with pure, cool, 
and dry air. If possible, a little sunlight should be admitted oc¬ 
casionally. 

It should be borne in mind that most foods must not be put away 
when warm. If covered closely when in this condition, they spoil 
rapidly. Soups, meat, fish, and bread should be cooled thoroughly, 
and in a dry current of air, if possible, before being set away. When 
meat is not hung up, it should be placed on a dish and set in a cool 
place. Meat should be removed from the paper as soon as it arrives 
from the market, and before cooking it should be washed or wiped 
with a wet cloth. 

A dish of charcoal placed in the refrigerator or pantry helps to 
keep the atmosphere dry and sweet. The bread box should be washed, 
•scalded, and thoroughly aired in the sun, as often as twice a week. 
Bread and cake should be thoroughly cooled before being placed in 
boxes, otherwise the dampness from the steam will cause them to 
mold quickly. 

UTILIZING REMNANTS 

T he careful housekeeper avoids waste by calculating as closely as 
possible how much of each article of food is required for the 
meal to be prepared, and buying accordingly. This can be 
readily learned by observation, and if you study the individual tastes 
of the members of your family, so that in marketing you buy only 
such things as you are confident will be eaten, you will save the ex¬ 
pense of filling the larder with food that will be wasted because it 

* 

is not tempting to the appetite. It is well to bear in mind that 
the way an article of food is prepared, cooked, and seasoned does 
more toward making a savory dish, than the fact that it has been 
procured early in the season at a fabulous price. 

The young housekeeper who aims to be a helpmeet to her hus¬ 
band in aiding his efforts to amass wealth, cannot better assist him 
than by taking good care of the small matters pertaining to the 
house, especially the larder, where watchfulness is needed to prevent 
useless waste. 

Many palatable dishes can be made by utilizing the remnants of 
meat and vegetables, which, although not sufficient for another meal 
if separately prepared, are sufficient and toothsome when combined. 
A small piece of meat chopped fine and highly seasoned can be made 
into a stew and served on toasted bread for breakfast; or it can be 
made into hash by adding a few boiled potatoes. Bones taken from 


THE CARE OF LINEN 


1 2 3 


the steak, chops, or roast can be used as a foundation for soup, to which 
can be added left over potatoes, tomatoes, celery, peas, or beans. 

Cold fish is less easily used than other meat, though if carefully boned; 
it can be hashed with potatoes, or scalloped with sauce and crumbs. 
Cold oysters give a pleasant flavor to the dressing in poultry. Celery 
chopped fine gives an excellent flavor to this dressing and also to soup. 

A good-sized roast of beef may be served hot, then cold, and after¬ 
ward afford a beef stew. The beef fat should be tried out, and used 
for frying meat and vegetables, as good suet is equal to butter for 
that purpose. 

There are so many ways to use stale bread that it would be a 

shameful waste to throw away the loaf or cut pieces from the loaf 
that has become dried. By putting the loaf into a steamer over 

boiling water a few minutes, it becomes light and as fresh as new, 

warm bread. The cut slices make good toast, or can be made into 

what is called French toast, by dipping them into well-beaten egg and 
milk, then frying them in butter. Another way to utilize stale bread 
is to dry it in the oven, so that it will take the place of (< cracker 
dust,” for frying oysters, clams, fish, and veal cutlets, and in which to 
roll croquettes and fish balls. 

Chopped beef can be used with eggs to make a meat souffle, or can 
be scalloped with crumbs. Cold roast lamb, mutton, or veal, can be 
used for a meat pie with pastry crust, or may be cut into thin slices 
and heated in tomato sauce. Cold chicken or turkey can be hashed and 
served in a cream sauce, on toast; or made into fritters, or a salad. 

Cooked ham, finely seasoned with onion, mustard, pepper, and salt, 
is a good filling for sandwiches. There are many ways of utilizing 
cold potatoes and other vegetables; indeed, every portion of food can 
be made into palatable dishes, thereby insuring economy of the liv¬ 
ing expenses. 

This may be a homely subject, but unless your means are suffi¬ 
cient to make the study of economy unnecessary, it is well to know 
how much can be done with moderate expenditure, where the house¬ 
wife learns to utilize the remnants, as well as to take good care of 
the larder. 


THE CARE OF LINEN 

T here is true economy in buying tablecloths and napkins of the 
best quality. Not only do they wear better, but they have al¬ 
ways a fresher and firmer look than those of cheaper grades. 
The durability of table linen depends largely on the treatment it 
receives. In washing it, little rubbing is needed. Wringing by hand 


CARE OF LAMPS 


I 24 

is preferable to putting it through the wringer, which sometimes in¬ 
jures the fabric, or leaves creases not easily removed with the iron. 

Fruit stains or iron rust should be taken out before the articles 
are put into soapsuds. The former may be removed by pouring hot 
water on the stains. Rust will usually yield to oxalic acid. Moisten 
the cloth with cold water, sprinkle with a little of the acid,' and rub 
between the hands. If one application does not remove the stain 
repeat the operation. Be careful to wash all acids from the fabric as 
soon as the stain disappears. Sometimes iron rust, if not too marked, 
can be removed by covering the spot with salt and lemon juice and 
exposing it to the sun. Ink stains should be treated in the same 
way as iron rust. 

'Tablecloths should not be allowed to flap in the wind, as they are 
likely to get whipped out at the corners. If folded together, with 
both edges pinned firmly to the line, the strain is lessened. When 
signs of wear begin to appear, a little darning will save a tablecloth 
for a long time. If skilfully done with threads of the fabric, worked 
in with the weave, these darnings will be almost unnoticeable. 

There should be a generous supply of sheets, pillowcases, and towels 
in every household. The sheets should be arranged in piles accord¬ 
ing to size. In putting them away, it is well to place those just re¬ 
turned from the ’ wash at the bottom of the pile, to insure equal 
wear for all. Sheets and pillowcases should be numbered and should 
never be put away without careful airing. 

Towels should be of generous size. Those of the best quality are 
the cheapest in the end. The bath-room should be well supplied 
with Turkish towels. 


CARE OF LAMPS 

L amps are either a source of great pleasure to the household, or a 
perpetual torment. With intelligent care, however, they need 
never be troublesome. The following rules will apply to the 
various makes in common use: — 

To prevent oil from oozing over the top of the burner, simply turn 
the wick down after the light is out. It is better to rub off, rather 
than to cut off, the charred part of a wick. The loose threads of a 
new wick should be clipped off. When once in shape, the necessity 
for clipping will be very rare. A wick should be put in the lamp 
several hours before using, so that it may become saturated with oil. 
When a lamp has been lighted, if one part of the wick is a little 
higher than the other parts, it will char first, and when well charred 
can be rubbed off to the level of the rest. A bit of soft paper, a 


SWEEPING 


1 2 5 


nail brush, or, best of all, the unbroken finger of a glove, will do this 
successfully. 

Be careful that no bit of charred wick, or burned fly or moth, is 
left in the lower part of the burner. There is danger that it will 
ignite and set fire to the oil in the reservoir. A clean lamp is not 
at all dangerous. If a lamp has been left standing with a little oil 
in it, it should not be lighted until filled, and not until the burner 
has been carefully wiped. It is possible that a gas may have formed, 
making it unsafe to light the lamp before refilling. 

To start the circular wick of a large lamp, put a new wick in the 
burner and saturate thoroughly with oil that part of the wick that 

i 

is above the burner. This is best done by holding the wick and the 
edge of the burner upside down in a shallow cup of oil. Screw the 
burner into place before putting the oil in the lamp. Light the wick 
and put the chimney on. The wick will char so that it can be rubbed 
down to an even surface. When a lamp is first lighted, keep the 
flame low until the metal of the burner is heated; this secures a clear, 
steady flame. 

To clean burners, boil them in water in which sal-soda has been 
dissolved, one teaspoonful to each quart of water. To prevent chim¬ 
neys from cracking, put them, before using, into a large pan and 
cover them with cold water. Let the pan stand on the stove until 
the water boils, then remove it and allow the chimneys to cool slowly 
in the water. If the brass catches of the burner are too tight, the 
chimney will break as it expands with the heat. These catches are 
easily loosened without injury to the lamp. 

Alcohol lamps for kettles and for chafing dishes must be kept per¬ 
fectly clean, and the wicks must be renewed before they are burned 
out. It is true not only of alcohol lamps, but of oil lamps, that the 
question — <( What is the matter with it ? * may often be solved by 
putting in a fresh wick. There is more or less paraffin in oil, and 
this sometimes clogs the wick. 


SWEEPING 

T he first step toward sweeping a room is to prepare for the operation. 
You should have a variety of brushes and cloths. One brush, 
which a housekeeper seldom possesses, but which will be found 
of the greatest convenience, is a paint brush for the purpose of re¬ 
moving the dust that lodges in the carvings of woodwork, and that 
cannot be reached by a dust cloth. You should also have a stiffer 
brush for moldings, and a sharp knife for the corners, although it may 


126 


SWEEPING 


not be necessary to use the latter. The dress for sweeping days 
* should be of some material that will wash. A dust cap should com¬ 
pletely cover the hair, and if you wish to keep your hands in good 
condition, they should be incased in gloves. 

Begin by dusting and removing from the room all the small articles 
and bric-a-brac. The rugs should be taken into the yard for shaking 
and beating, and if there are draperies at the windows, they should 
be shaken and either folded away or carefully covered. Shades should 
be rolled to the top, and the windows should be opened at least a 
few inches. Furniture that is too heavy to be removed should be 
dusted and covered with sheets. You will find it a great convenience 
to make up a supply of such coverings from calico or other cheap 
material, and to have them sufficiently large to cover any piece of 
furniture. All upholstered pieces should be first swept with a whisk 
broom; a smaller brush, somewhat coarse, is useful in reaching the 
very deep places. 

The molding at the top of the wall can be cleaned by means of 
a long-handled brush, though it is much better, after sweeping the 
room, to stand on a stepladder and remove the dust from the mold¬ 
ing and from the tops of the window casings and doors, by means of 
a wet cloth. In sweeping, begin at a farther corner of the room and 
work toward the door. After a few short strokes of the broom over 
a square yard or so of the carpet in one direction, sweep the same 
space again in the opposite direction. When the entire carpet has 
been swept in this way, gather the dust into a dustpan and burn it. 
Do not let the pan stand with the dust in it after the sweeping has 
been done. 

If the carpet is dark, and is very dusty, coarse Indian meal, 
slightly moistened with water, may be scattered over a small place at 
a time and swept off lightly. It will take the dust with it, and at the 
same time will brighten the colors of the carpet. Salt may be used 
for the same purpose on any carpet, but tea leaves, Indian meal or 
anything else that is wet, should be applied only to dark carpets. 

The carpet should be swept at least twice, and then all the win¬ 
dows should be thrown wide open to permit a thorough airing of the 
room. The walls may then be brushed with a canton flannel bag 
slipped over the end of a broom, and the woodwork should be wiped 
with a damp cloth. It is a good thing to go over the carpet finally 
with a carpet sweeper, and the surface may be wiped lightly with a 
cloth moistened in warm water, to which has been added a few drops 
of ammonia, or a little borax. By doing this the good results of the 
sweeping will last longer. After the sweeping and dusting of the 
room is completed, return the furniture which has been set aside. 


HOUSEHOLD PESTS 


T 27 

In sweeping bedrooms, the bottom of every closet should be wiped 
out and the shelves should be carefully examined. In dusting, some 
articles of furniture require extra care. For the piano, or furniture 
of delicate polish, old silk handkerchiefs generally make the best dust¬ 
ers. For all ordinary purposes, squares of old cambric, hemmed, will 
be found as good as anything. All dusters should be frequently 
washed. Remember that in dusting the process should be wiping, 
not a flirting of the cloth, which simply sends the dust into the air 
to settle down again in some other place. 

All brass or silver-plated work about the fireplace, the doorknobs, 
and all nickel furnishings, should be cleaned once a week before 
sweeping. For silver, rub first with powdered whiting, moistened 
with a little alcohol or hot water. Allow it to dry on the surface of 
the metal and then polish with a dry chamois skin. If there is any 
intricate work, use a small toothbrush. All polishing utensils should 
be kept in a box together. 

HOUSEHOLD PESTS 
Ants 

P erhaps the most common insect pest with which the housekeeper 
has ta contend is the little red house-ant. The only effectual 
means of ridding premises of ants is to find the nest and ex¬ 
terminate the colony. The nest is often situated under the floor 
of a building, and it may be necessary to raise some of the boards 
in order to reach it. The location of the nest can usually be dis¬ 
covered by following the path of the individuals which make their 
appearance. If the nest is found to be in a wall where it is not 
practicable to expose it, the occupants may sometimes be reached by 
injecting some fluid into the opening. Kerosene, benzine, naphtha or 
bisulphide of carbon may be used for this purpose. Nests built in 
the cracks of the foundation timbers may be destroyed in the same 
way. 

The little black ant is very common, as is also the pavement ant 
in certain localities. The latter frequently has its abode in holes in 
the ground, under stone or asphalt paving. If the entrance to the 
nest can be uncovered, the destruction of the colony is a simple task. 
One or more drenchings with boiling water will often prove effectual. 
Any of the petroleum oils may be poured into the holes with good 
result, and a liberal use of bisulphide of carbon is almost certain 
death to an ant community. One or two ounces should be poured 
into each hole and the opening immediately stopped up. The bisul¬ 
phide penetrates the numerous passageways and kills the insects. How- 


HOUSEHOLD PESTS 


I 28 

ever, the source of trouble is sometimes quite beyond our reach, in 
a neighboring - building or under a paving which cannot be removed. 
When this is the case, our attention must be directed to destroying 
or driving away the members of the colony that find their way to our 
houses. 


Fleas 

If the house is infested with fleas, see first that no cats or dogs 
are permitted to carry more into the house. If these pets are kept, 
the immunity of the human occupants of the house from annoyance 
will depend upon keeping the animals free from the insects. If dogs 
and cats are kept clean by proper combing and by frequent washings 
with soap made for the purpose, there need be no difficulty in keep¬ 
ing the fleas out of their hair. 

The oil or the dried leaves of pennyroyal sprinkled about will aid in 
driving out the fleas. If the cracks of the floors have become nesting 
places for them, the carpets or mattings will probably have to be re¬ 
moved, and the floors thoroughly cleansed. Benzine sprinkled over 
the floor-covering may in some instances prove effectual, or the liberal 
use of California buhach. 

In floors which have been neglected, or in houses that have been 
closed for some time, especially in damp weather, the dust in the 
crevices may harbor a multitude of the insects in various stages of 
development. In extreme cases of this kind, the quickest and easiest 
way to destroy them is to take up all carpets and drench the cracks 
with hot soapsuds. If preferred, benzine may be used, though it is 
not so certain to kill the eggs as is the boiling or scalding water, 
and greater danger is incurred by the use of a large quantity of ben¬ 
zine. 

Bedbugs 

The question of effectual means of destroying bedbugs is one that 
almost every housekeeper finds herself, at one time or another, com¬ 
pelled to solve. The one who begins her career in her own new 
house, with all furnishings free from infection, and who is watchful 
of all articles that are brought into the house, may never have serious 
trouble of this kind. If danger of the pests is suspected, preventive 
measures should be taken promptly. 

If by some chance one of these insects has gained admission, its 
advent must be followed by a series of cleanings that will preclude 
the possibility of any eggs remaining to hatch. With proper treat¬ 
ment, patiently and persistently applied, badly infested houses may 
be completely reclaimed. Many of the common insect remedies have 


HOUSEHOLD PESTS 


129 


little or no effect upon these bugs. Besides, their haunts are usually 
in deep crevices where powders cannot reach them, or in the bed¬ 
ding or wall paper, where liquid preparations would cause damage. 
Again, their remarkable power of surviving for a long period with¬ 
out <( visible means of support )} makes it impossible to starve them 
out. Houses that have remained unoccupied for months are fre¬ 
quently found to be infested with them. 

In a room in which the bugs have already gained a foothold in 
the walls and bed, the first step will be to examine the bed closely 
and destroy every living bug, molted skin, and egg that can be found. 
The nests are most likely to be found in the corners of mattresses, 
and individual bugs may be secreted in any fold or binding that af¬ 
fords a hiding-place. If the bedstead is of wood, the joints at the 
corners, notches for the ends of the slats, and crevices made by the 
paneling, make places of concealment that need special attention. If 
all such places are drenched with coal oil or gasoline, the developed 
insects will be killed instantly. If the process is then repeated several 
times in quick succession, the young ones will be killed as they hatch 
and the pests should soon be exterminated. A safe method, however, 
is after each application of the oil to put (< black flag powder, * or some 
other poison, about all joints and crevices. 

Iron beds are much more easily kept from insect pests than are 
wooden ones. If it is desirable to use the wooden ones, however, the 
crevices should be filled with putty, laundry soap, or paint. Corrosive 
sublimate is another useful remedy, and some housekeepers who are 
very successful in exterminating these insects use nothing else for 
this purpose. Oil of turpentine is good, and there are several patent 
bedbug poisons in the market that are more or less effective. All 
liquid preparations must be applied with a feather or small brush that 
can be introduced into the cracks, or they should be injected from a 
syringe. 

Any articles or parts of furniture that will not be damaged by the 
treatment may be quickly cleaned by having scalding water applied. 
The water, if near the boiling point, not only destroys the bugs, but 
kills the eggs. If the infested room have a papered wall, the quick¬ 
est and easiest remedy will probably be a new paper. If the paper 
cannot be changed, examine the cracks or broken places carefully and 
destroy any insects that may be found. Yet this cannot always be 
done thoroughly, as these wily little creatures often seek the most 
secure hiding-places in the corners of the ceiling, whence they repair 
after their nightly raids. 

Both benzine and corrosive sublimate are good to apply to the 
cracks. If this does not prove effectual, possibly sulphur fumes will 
1—9 


I 3 0 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 


do the work. Remove from the room all silver or gilt articles and all 
plants, light a sulphur candle and leave it burning in the room, or 
place four or five ounces of brimstone or flowers of sulphur in a 
vessel over a fire. Sprinkle this with dry corrosive sublimate. Un¬ 
less a vessel of considerable size be used, it will be well as a precaution 
to arrange a larger vessel into which the liquid may run in case it 
should overflow in the melting. Close the room tightly and allow it 
to remain so for several hours. This is an effectual means of ridding 
closets of the pests, as the fumes penetrate the numerous crevices that 
are not easily reached by other applications. A wet sponge should be 
held to the face upon entering the room to open the windows after 
the fumigation. If it be suspected that the bugs have found lodgment 
in the cracks between the flooring, all the dust should be swept out, 
the floors washed in scalding water, and any preferred poison ap¬ 
plied; or repeated applications of benzine or gasoline will give good 
results. 

When these bugs become established among books and papers, they 
are not easily eradicated. Books afford so many inaccessible hiding- 
places that sulphur fumigation is about the only effectual remedy in 
such cases. If the library contain silver or gilt ornaments or decora¬ 
tions that cannot be removed, the books will have to be taken to some 
other apartment for fumigation. The bookcases and shelves should 
be treated with some of the various preparations recommended for 
use on beds. 

Constant vigilance and unrelenting effort is needful to eradicate 
these pests from premises that have become infested. An ounce of 
prevention is worth many pounds of cure in a difficulty of this nature, 
and the foresighted housewife will take no risk by allowing any pos¬ 
sible source of trouble to be neglected. 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 

I n the colonial period of American history, and in the early years 
of the Republic, the position of servants and apprentices was 
clearly defined. The aristocratic traditions of the mother country, 
prevailing over the newborn spirit of democracy, drew sharp distinc¬ 
tions between the various classes of society. 

These distinctions were material as well as moral. Tradespeople 
were not allowed to wear the dress of gentlefolk. Servants and ap¬ 
prentices were obliged to dress according to their stations. They 
were treated justly, but with a certain severity, which kept them in 
their places as silent and humble members of the household. Small 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 


I 3' 



So many men 


wages and heavy labor were their portion. Their material and spirit¬ 
ual welfare was wholly in the hands of their masters, with whom 
they lived year in and year out, with no thought of change. 

This state of things could not long continue. The leaven of democ¬ 
racy soon spread through all classes of society, dimming the once 
sharply defined distinctions, and infusing a new spirit of restlessness. 
The evolution of Americans from an agricultural into a business peo¬ 
ple was perhaps the strongest agency in weak-^ 
ening the old aristocratic traditions, and in 
spreading a certain discontent throughout - 
all classes. The ambition to rise in life, to 
become rich or famous, drew men from posi¬ 
tions of service into more perilous but more^ 
congenial conditions of struggle and experiments?^? 
in new enterprises. Young men left the farms 
for the cities: young women, the kitchens and 
the dairies for the mills or the stores. 

These processes of change have been quickened 
of late years by the added forces of higher educa¬ 
tion, and of a complex system of public education, 
and women are pressing into business and professional life, preferring 
to fail on a higher plane rather than to succeed on a lower one, that 
it has become a serious question whether there will be any left to 
perform (< the lowly and serviceable w offices of life. 

The first step toward the solution of the vexed servant question 
in this country should be the inculcation of the truth that all labor 
is honorable; and of that other elementary truth, that God did not 
create all men for the same office and ministry. Children in the pub¬ 
lic schools should be taught that greatness does not consist in big¬ 
ness; nor does success consist alone in making money, or in (< rising” 
in the world. They should be taught that the successful man is the 
man who is of most service to his fellows, whether that service con¬ 
sist in making a wooden bench honestly and properly, in conducting 
a railroad honestly, or in sweeping a room with care. The solution 
of the servant problem, as of many other problems of this country, 
lies in transforming the present ideals of that which constitutes suc¬ 
cess, into those which recognize primarily the nobility of service,— the 
dignity of honest labor. 

In the majority of American households, but one servant is kept. 
How shall the domestic economy be ordered under these circumstances, 
that the best results shall follow ? In their lament over the trouble¬ 
some servant problem, American women do not always realize that 
the difficulty may lie in their own ignorance of household matters. 




1 3 2 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 


One step toward the solution of the problem would be the complete 
mastery by the mistress of every detail of housekeeping. Here, again, 
the education in household affairs must begin with the child. Amer¬ 
ican girls should be taught cooking, the management of the kitchen 
and the pantry; every detail of laundry work; every detail of lighter 
housekeeping. 

Such knowledge puts the mistress of a house in a position of power. 
Nothing places a servant in such just dependence upon her mistress 
as the knowledge that the latter is independent of her services. The 
picture of the ill-tempered and wasteful cook lording it over the whole 
household because she alone knows how to cook, is not overdrawn. The 
tyranny of servants springs largely from their consciousness of power 
possessed through knowledge. The mistress of a house should always 
know more than her servants, should be to them in the position of 
a guardian and guide; otherwise, confusion and the strife of tongues. 

The mistress with one servant should share with her the work of 
the house. The entire work of a household, however small, is too 
much for one person to do well. The division should be made with 
reference to the special talents of the maid-of-all-work. 

It is difficult to maintain dignity and style of living in a house¬ 
hold where but one servant is kept; yet this is possible if the mis¬ 
tress assume entirely the responsibility of certain duties. It would 
appear that the best results are obtained if the single servant can 
concentrate all of her energies on cooking, on the care of her kitchen, 
on waiting at the table and answering the door bell. 

The mistress can assume the entire charge of the bedrooms, of 
drawing-room or parlor, and of the dining-room. Once a week, if 
possible, a woman can be brought in to do the thorough sweeping. 
It is better for this additional woman to sweep than to assist in the 
washing, because sweeping takes her to another part of the house, 
and keeps her out of the kitchen, where, under her mistress, the 
single servant should be supreme. This leaves only the lighter and 
pleasanter duties of housekeeping to be performed by the mistress, 
the making of beds, the dusting of rooms, the setting of the table, 
— labors which have their esthetic element. It is much easier to 
teach a servant to cook than to teach her how to put individuality 
and beauty into the arrangement of a room or a table. 

There is no good reason why the single servant should not be 
waitress as well as cook, nor why she should not wear cap and apron; 
and, except on washing-day, be always neat enough to answer the 
bell. Cooking is a dainty labor. Professional cooks, like Mrs. Rorer, 
have proved that it is possible to perform any kind of cooking with¬ 
out injury to the clothing. The single servant should be trained to 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 


133 


be as neat in appearance as if she were one of a large corps of ser¬ 
vants.. The mistress should provide her with gingham dresses, with 
caps and aprons; and should insist on her keeping them in order. 
The expense of such provision is comparatively light; and is more 
than compensated for in the appearance of the maid. 

She should have a good, sunny room; and if there be no servant's 
sitting-room, or if the kitchen be small, her bedroom should be large 
enough to serve the purpose of a sitting-room. No servant should be 
put into a small, dark, dingy cupboard of a room. If her self-respect 
is to be cultivated, she should have a cheerful, pretty bedroom, plainly, 
but neatly furnished, with ample facilities for bathing. She should be 
taught that she is for the time being a member of the household; is 
therefore obligated to be clean and neat; to live as far as possible in 
accordance with the rules of the household. 

In this day of frequent changing of servants, the old-time, kindly 
interdependence between mistress and maid is scarcely known. Ser¬ 
vants do not remain long enough to become identified with families, to 
share their interests, their joys and sorrows. They are, as a rule, 
aliens, performing their labors in a perfunctory spirit. The fault is 
not wholly theirs. American women seem not to know how to estab¬ 
lish a servant in the household; to make her at once so comfortable 
and so useful that she has a double sense of her well-being. 

If space allow, it is well to have a servants’ sitting-room, whether 
for the use of one servant or of six. This room should be furnished 
with a table, a couch, one or two rocking-chairs, and, if possible, a 
shelf of books. A good servant is usually an intelligent servant. 
To recognize her intelligence is one method of putting it to good 
service. 

In old New England days, the faithful servants of the family 
sometimes knew Latin, and were well read in theology. But this 
knowledge did not interfere with the performance of their duties. 
They believed in the dignity of labor, in the divinity of service. The 
domestic life was to them, as to their mistresses, the most beautiful 
of all lives. So they were content and faithful. 

The discontent of the modern mistress, her impatience of the re¬ 
straints of housekeeping, communicates itself to her servants. What 
she despises, they despise. Work becomes drudgery. The household 
duties are performed without enthusiasm. The mistress with one 
maid cannot expect her to be enthusiastic in her little round of toil, 
if she, herself, be listless and indifferent. Working in harmony and 
with a thorough appreciation of the high end in view,— the proper 
conduct of the house,— mistress and maid will accomplish as much as 
half a dozen servants working without unity of purpose. 




THE SERVANT QUESTION 


Where two servants are kept, the cares of the mistress of the house 
are, as a rule, doubled instead of halved. Her first problem is to find 
two girls who will live in harmony with each other; who will not 
shirk their work, or refuse to do each her full share. 

The work of two servants should be so apportioned that the duties 
of each are entirely distinct and in no danger of overlapping. The 
kitchen should be the province of the maid who does the cooking; 
while the <( second maid,” as she is called, undertakes those duties 
otherwise assumed by the mistress of the house. When the washing is 
being done, the second maid takes for the day the place of the cook. 

If possible, each servant should have her own room. If two share 
the same room, they should have separate beds, separate bureaus, and 
separate washstands. Health, as well as comfort, demands this. Their 
afternoons and evenings out should be understood, and nothing should 
interfere with this arrangement. 

In an establishment where many servants are kept, as in large 
New York houses, the mistress does not come in contact with her 
servants. Between her and them is the trained housekeeper, who has 
her own sitting-room and dining-room where she preserves a kind of 
state shared by the upper servants — the butler, the lady’s maid and 
the valet. The other servants have a general assembly-room called 
the servants’ hall. Their table is entirely distinct from the table of 
the family, another bill of fare is provided for them, and their hours 
for meals are arranged by the housekeeper. Even in the servants’ 
hall, class distinctions are sharply preserved, the upper servants care¬ 
fully separating themselves from those of lower rank. Their bed¬ 
rooms are generally at the top of the house, where, with bath-rooms 
and dressing-rooms, they form a home in itself. In one New York 
mansion, the servants’ rooms at the top of the house open upon a 
gallery, from which the domestics can witness whatever festivities 
are going on in the rooms beneath. 

The servants in these large establishments are usually trained to a 
high degree of perfection. The butler must not only be a connois¬ 
seur of porcelains, of the silver and cut glass for table service, but he 
must be also a judge of wine. The lady’s maid must understand hair¬ 
dressing, and must be able to trim hats and to make dresses. The 
housekeeper must be a good financier. Each in his or her place must 
be a specialist. 

To procure a good servant is a more difficult business than to train 
one. In the city, the best method of procuring servants is to go to 
an intelligence office of the first class. The successful servant is 
usually possessed of enough money to afford the fee required by the 
office. The poorer class of servants, as a rule, use the advertising 


THE SERVANT QUESTION 


135 

columns of the newspaper. References should always be required 
in engaging a new servant, though in this country references have 
less significance than in England, where no servant can obtain a po¬ 
sition without a recommendation from the mistress with whom she 
last lived. Before engaging a servant, her prospective mistress should 
arrive at a thorough understanding with her concerning her wages, 
her duties, the number of afternoons which she expects to have for 
herself during the month, and all other points on which disagreement 
might later arise. In the present state of affairs, this catechism is 
usually reversed, the servant plying her would-be employer with a 
variety of pertinent and impertinent questions. 

A story is told of the wife of a professor at a well-known uni¬ 
versity, who, after submitting to a thorough cross-questioning from a 
servant, said gravely, <( And now there is one question I should like 
to ask you: Can you play the piano ? Unless you can, I cannot pos¬ 
sibly engage you.* 

Good results are sometimes obtained by training an ignorant girl 
who has just arrived in this country. Ignorance does not necessarily 
imply a lack of intelligence; it may be only undeveloped intelligence. 
Under the supervision of a wise mistress, a well-trained servant may 
be evolved from an intelligent Irish or German girl, however crude. 

The evolution, however, sometimes involves many trials to both 
mistress and maid. A young housekeeper, who was training a girl 
newly arrived from Ireland, had occasion to show her how to prepare 
cantaloup for the table. The next day a watermelon was served for 
dessert, and, to the consternation of the mistress, the maid brought in 
the rinds upon a plate, having carefully cut out and thrown away the 
red portion of the fruit. 

Swedes and Finns make good servants. The colored race is endowed 
with the very genius of service, but the members are not always trust¬ 
worthy. All things considered, however, the proverb (< like mistress, 
like maid,* contains the secret of the successful training of servants. 

A nurse girl should be selected with more care than is any other 
servant of the household. To some degree the physical health and 
the moral well-being of the child are in her keeping. Even the most 
solicitous mother cannot have the nurse and the child always under 
her supervision. Nurses have been known to treat children well while 
in the house, but to abuse them when out walking with them. A 
New York lady, upon seeing a nursemaid' strike and shake a very little 
child who was in her charge, remonstrated with her and was roundly 
abused for her interference. She then followed the nurse to the child s 
home and reported the circumstances to the mother, who at once dis¬ 
charged the cruel girl. 


136 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


Many mothers prefer to have gentlewomen assume the care of their 
children, believing truly that the earliest impressions which a child 
receives are practically ineffaceable. If the nurse be a coarse, rough 
woman, of untidy habits, her charges will be to a certain degree in¬ 
fluenced by her manner and conversation. 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 

T he force of the arguments sometimes advanced to prove that it is 
cruel to deprive wild birds and animals of their freedom, de¬ 
pends almost entirely upon the kind of treatment that these 
creatures receive while in captivity. 

No sympathy is ever wasted on cats and dogs, for they are born 
in a domesticated state and know no other. As a result, they often 
cling to their masters or mistresses, no matter how badly they may 
be treated. 

The charge of cruelty is most often made against those who keep 
caged birds, but experience has shown that such birds are not unhappy 
when they are properly cared for. It is cruel to neglect an imprisoned 
bird, and the little fellow cannot be blamed for escaping if he gets a 
chance. But a bird that is well cared for seldom leaves his cage 
without returning, and he will generally refuse to accept his liberty 
if it is offered. 

The keeping of pets is a constant lesson in kindliness, and its effect 
is apparent, not only in the birds or the animals, but also in our own 
natures. It is a remarkable fact, ascertained by statistics carefully 
gathered from training schools. and prisons, that very few men or 
women who act kindly toward household pets are ever found among 
criminals. The unselfish attention required in caring for a pet has an 
elevating tendency. Not only does the dumb creature amuse the child, 
but its care is a training to him in gentle ways and acts of justice 
that go far to insure an honest life. 

If you have pets, therefore, never be lacking in kindness to them. 
See that they have those things which make them happy. Do unto 
them (< as you would that others should do unto you. w This golden 
rule is as sound when applied to the treatment of animals as to the 
treatment of men. Indeed, animals are the more apt to show appre¬ 
ciation of your kindness and attention. 


The Canary 

The Canary has been a captive for so many generations that he is 
almost as completely domesticated as the chickens and ducks of our 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


137 


barnyards. He is the most common of our caged pets, but alas, he is 
so frequently neglected that he seldom shows his best qualities. 

Canaries have their likes and dislikes, and they may be made good 
tempered, gentle, and cheerful, or may become quarrelsome and sul¬ 
len. They often show their peculiarities in mating, for a bird has his 
own notions and should be allowed liberty of choice. The little 
damsels of canarydom accept or reject a wooer, as they see fit. 

It will be useless for you to insist upon a union where there is 
no love manifested. Once mated to their satisfaction, a pair 
will remain united for life, and if separated by a thoughtless 
owner, they will mourn as if their hearts were broken. Very 
touching stories have been told of the recognition of a pair of 
birds when reunited after years of separation. 

Canaries are sensitive to their surroundings, and will show 
preferences in colors as well as in the positions of their cages. 

A bird will sometimes be unhappy or restless in one part of & 
the room, though perfectly contented in another part. It is 
said that some birds have refused to sing because the wall 
paper was of a color or pattern displeasing to them. You 
will need to study these little peculiarities, and you will 
find that your efforts to please your pet will add to your 
enjoyment, as well as to his happiness. 

The Canary should have a cage large enough to enable 
him to exercise. Regularity should be observed in cleaning 
the cage and in giving food and drink to its occupant. As you know, 
his principal food is canary seed mixed with a little rape seed. He 
should sometimes have hemp seed as a dainty, but it should always 
be scattered over the surface of the gravel kept in the cage, instead 
of being put into his seed dish. Canary seed varies greatly in quality, 
and a bird will often scatter poor seed when he would waste none if 
it were of a better quality. Only the kind that has large, plump 
grains should be given to him. The reason why hemp seed should 
not be mixed in the dish with the other seed is that the canary likes 
the former best, and eats nothing else as long as it is found in the 
dish. It is not well to feed him entirely on what he likes best, and 
hemp seed is too rich for a regular food. If a half teaspoonful is 
occasionally scattered on the gravel, he will walk around until he finds 
every grain, and in the meantime will eat some of the plainer seeds 
in his dish. 

The Canary should have a little green food every day, such as let¬ 
tuce, chickweed, apple, or similar articles for which he manifests 
a liking. It is best to hang the cage near a window, but out of the 
way of draughts, and it should not be too near to a radiator or 





138 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


a stove. If the room become cold at night, it is well to wrap a thin 
blanket closely about the cage. 

The Canary should often be talked to, and should always be 
treated gently. He is intelligent and imitative, and has a wonderful 
capacity for song, but he must be taught to sing. This may be done 
in three different ways. He may be taught to sing either our own 
tunes or the notes of another bird,— that of the lark or the robin 
for instance; or his own natural song may be developed. The learning 
period in a Canary’s life is during the time when he is between five 
months and a year old. You must then make a choice of one of 
the three methods of teaching and begin the work before it is too 
late. 

At this time, the cords of his throat must be kept flexible, and it 
will be best not to feed him too freely on seeds, but to give him 
soft foods, such as hard-boiled egg, grated and mixed with cracker or 
bread crumbs. He should have variety of food and plenty of it, for 
he is growing, and needs to be well nourished. 

If you wish to teach him to sing one of our common airs, such as 
(< Annie Laurie, J) he must first be placed with the cage covered, in a 

quiet room. Then you must whistle a few notes of the 
air, or play it on some instrument, slowly and dis¬ 
tinctly, in correct time, over and over again, until the 
bird begins to try to sing it. He must not see the 
teacher nor hear the least noise to distract his atten¬ 
tion, and you will need to be very patient, for you 
may have to spend hours in repeating these few notes 
before he will try them. As soon as he does, reward him 
with some dainty. 

But no matter how well he has learned his arti¬ 
ficial song, he will forget it the first time he molts, 
/ or sheds his feathers, unless it is carefully repeated 
to him every day. If you wish him to imitate the 
song of a lark or robin, he must be placed in a cov¬ 
ered cage, in the same room with one of these birds. If 
the cage of the lark or robin be placed in a sunny 
T window, he will sing in his usual happy way, and the 
Canary, in his darkened cage, will pay attention to the 
notes and imitate them. 

The third method, which is the most natural one, is to have the 
young bird trained by a good singer of his own species. All that is 
necessary is to keep the two in a room together. The young bird 
should not be disturbed by other noises, and especially by other sing¬ 
ing. Sometimes the Canary’s notes are so loud and shrill that vou 




THE KEEPING OF PETS 


139 


tire of hearing - them, but you should never stop the song by violence. 
Never scold or shake the cage. If the bird is too noisy, quietly cover 
his cage, at the same time speaking kindly to him, and before long he 
will begin to understand that he is not to sing his shrill notes at all 
times. 

Canaries sometimes become ill, and when they do they require 
close attention. They are subject to fits, especially if their diet is 
not well regulated. When the first symptoms of these attacks are 
noticed, some of the. softer foods already referred to should be sub¬ 
stituted for seed. Many bird fanciers give the same remedies to a 
bird that are given for similar complaints in human beings. For ex¬ 
ample, if the bird has a cold, a homeopathic pellet is dissolved in his 
drinking water. He thus takes a little medicine whenever he drinks. 

Should his claws become long enough to interfere with his move¬ 
ments, they should be trimmed slightly with sharp scissors. Care 
must be taken that they are not cut so close as to cause them to 
bleed, for though not dangerous, this is very painful. 

If it is noticed that a Canary is restless, and continually picks at 
his body and wings, he is probably troubled by lice or other parasitic 
insects. This may be verified by covering the cage with a white 
cloth or paper, which should be left on over night; if the bird has 
lice, some of them will be found on the paper or cloth when it is 
taken off in the morning. The cage, after being carefully washed, 
should be fumigated with sulphur, which may be sprinkled on live coals, 
placed in a dish in the bottom of the cage. After this has been 
done, a small bag of powdered sulphur should be hung in the cage, 
near the top, and anise seed should be mixed with the gravel in 
the bottom of the cage. While the cage is being fumigated, the 
bird may be given a bath in tepid water, after which he should 
be sprinkled with a powder supplied for the purpose by a reliable 
veterinary surgeon or bird fancier. For the next few days, the bird 
should be kept in another room or in another part of the same 
room. 

Frequent bathing is one of the best promoters of good health in 
birds. As a rule, the dishes made for that purpose are not of the 
right shape, being made long and narrow, so that they will slip into 
the cage. Birds like sufficient water to stand in, so that they may dip 
their wings freely. A common flower-pot saucer makes a very good 
bath, and the bird can stand on the edge without danger of slipping. 
The bottom of the cage should be taken out, and the frame placed 
over the saucer on the table. You will be surprised to note how 
much better the Canary enjoys bathing in a dish of this kind than 
in one of those usually sold with bird cages. 


140 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


The Parrot 


After the canary, the Parrot is the most general favorite as a 
cage bird. No one unless fond of birds should buy a Parrot, for 
he demands not only seed and water, but love and attention. He 
is capable of being either a charming companion or a torment; and 
as he is a bird of strong emotions, the way in which he is treated has 
a noticeable effect on his character. If poorly cared for or kept amid 
unpleasant surroundings, his talent will develop in unpleasant ways, 
and instead of learning to talk he will take to screaming or barking. 

Unfortunately, Parrots receive their first training before they be¬ 
come pets, and much time and care are often required to change their 
temper and language. In some cases they remember what they first 
learn, despite any amount of subsequent teaching. When you first 
get one of these birds from a dealer, you will often find that he 
is not friendly, and your first step should be to convince him 
that you are his friend. This must be done through gentle¬ 
ness and unvarying kindness. If you indulge in violence of 
any kind in the room in which a Parrot is kept, if you speak 
loudly or sharply to him, or permit any one else to do so, 
he will never be a gentle and agreeable pet. Most people 
seem to have a natural tendency to tease a Parrot, but it 
' is a serious mistake for the bird’s owner to permit them 
to do so. 

* As soon as the Parrot is thoroughly convinced of your 
friendship, and no longer shrinks from you, it is time to 
' V begin to teach him. He will be found to be like some peo- 

1 pie, in that if he is not learning something good he will acquire 
knowledge of the opposite kind. He should be taught by repeating 
to him each day, slowly and distinctly, the desired word or expression 
just as you wish him to say it. It is best to begin with one word, 
and unfortunately, the word generally selected is <( Polly.® As there 
are already thousands of Parrots that say (< Polly wants a cracker, * 
you will be wise to teach your Parrot to say something else. 

Care must be taken in teaching a word to see that the bird under¬ 
stands it. If you give him a nut, say <( Nut. ® When you first come 
into the room in the morning, say <( Good-morning ; w and when you 
go out say <( Good-by.® In this way you may train your Parrot so 
that he will at least appear to know what he is talking about. There 
are many badly-trained Parrots that chatter words or expressions 
without the least reference to the occasion. 

The best food for a large Parrot is ripe corn, and canary, hemp, 
and millet seed. He should have plain, tepid water to drink. Crackers 








THE KEEPING OF PETS 


141 


may be given to him, and if he has bread it should be dry. Smaller 
Parrots should have very little hemp seed, which is too rich to be 
healthful for them. Green food is said to be unnecessary for these 
birds,'but a little ripe fruit or green corn does them no harm. Fil¬ 
berts and walnuts, they consider a special treat. Fresh twigs may be 
put into the cage, but they should be of soft wood, such as willow 
or birch. All food should be fresh, and in winter should be warmed 
slightly if taken directly from a cold room. A piece of cuttlefish 
bone should always be secured where the bird will have easy ac¬ 
cess to it. A Parrot, like other birds, should have plenty of fresh 
gravel or sand on the bottom of his cage. 

It is customary to bathe a Parrot by putting him into a bath tub 
and spraying him with lukewarm water. Another way is to dip a 
leafy branch in water and hang it in his cage where he can rub 
against it. Most of these birds enjoy this arrangement thoroughly. 

Since he is a tropical bird, the Parrot must be carefully protected 
from cold, and should never be kept in a cold room. One thing that 
must not be forgotten is that he is not a safe companion for other 
caged birds. The Parrot family is continually waging a relentless 
warfare on the other feathered tribes, and the battles that occur often 
result fatally. 

The Cockatoo 

The Cockatoo belongs to the parrot family, but has many distinctive 
characteristics. He is a more beautiful bird than the parrot, and more 
affectionate. While the latter is inclined to be grave and dignified, 
the Cockatoo is of a rollicking nature, and when he is happy is 
full of play. It is interesting to watch two Cockatoos amuse them¬ 
selves by funny antics. They will sometimes roll over together on 
the floor, like two kittens. 

If shown some attention and treated kindly, the Cockatoo often 
develops into a wonderfully intelligent bird. But, unlike the parrot, 
he is not a good talker. He may usually be taught to speak a word 
or two, but will seldom master a sentence. The care of a Cockatoo 
need not differ materially from that of a parrot. He should never have 
soft food, though he is fond of it. His diet should consist of hemp 
seed or dry corn, with an occasional ship’s biscuit or dry cracker. 

Besides the two already mentioned, there are several other birds 
which come under the head of talkers. The common crow may be 
taught to speak, and his relative, the raven, learns very rapidly, and 
rarely forgets any sentence that he has mastered. But both are 
too active to be kept in cages, and too full of mischief to be left 
at large in the house. Many of our common birds, such as the 


142 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


robin, Baltimore oriole, and bluebird, can be tamed, and, if treated 
kindly, will live happily in cages. They should have for food what¬ 
ever they are accustomed to eat in their native state. 

The Pigeon 

Pigeons occupy a position half-way between the poultry yard and 
the bird cage. In their ways of living, they are much like the 
domestic fowls, and they readily take care of themselves if furnished 
with the proper kind of food. But in their dispositions, and in the 
remarkable things that they can be trained to do, they resemble 
the most affectionate of our household pets. 

The Pigeon house, or dovecote, should be divided into cells, so 
that each pair of birds may have its own apartment. Each cell 
should be about a foot in height and sixteen inches in width and 
depth, and the door should be arranged so that the nest cannot be 
seen from without. There may be either a perch in front of each cell, 
or larger ones arranged in a convenient manner. The dovecote must 
be placed at such a height as to be out of the way of rats, and 
should be well constructed, so as to afford its inmates protection 
from cold and dampness. It must be kept fresh and clean or it 
will soon be deserted. The exterior should be painted white, as that 
color is the most attractive to Pigeons. 

It is natural for these birds to have a strong love for their original 
home, and this instinct is especially marked in the species known as 
Homing Pigeons. In many instances, these birds have been sent to 
other lofts, sometimes hundreds of miles distant, and, after being con¬ 
fined there for months, have flown back to their first home as soon 
as they received their liberty. The only sure way to keep Homing 
Pigeons in a new loft is to put them there when they are only four 
or five weeks old. Even birds two or three months of age some¬ 
times return to their first home, after having been confined elsewhere 
until they seemed to be entirely contented. 

Many fancy varieties of Pigeons have been produced by careful 
breeding, and any of them can be kept as pets, with very little trouble. 
Whenever possible, they should be left to come and go at will, for 
they are never happy without a considerable amount of freedom. 
The best foods for Pigeons are the grains and various kinds of seeds 
which they find for themselves when at liberty. 

The Cat 

In the opinion of those who thoroughly understand the Cat, no 
pet is more companionable and none more desirable. So long and 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


T43 



so well has the Cat performed her duty of protecting us from the 
depredations of mice and rats, that we can hardly imagine what we 
would do without her. 

The care of Cats must vary somewhat with the different kinds. 
Some of the aristocrats of the tribe are very costly. To this class 
belong three varieties of long-haired Cats,'—the Angora, the 
Russian, and the Persian. These are so rare that we need 
not consider them, but may turn our attention to the com¬ 
mon pussy, the friendly little creature that is so familiar 
to us all. Whether white or black, a tabby, or a Mal¬ 
tese, the proper care of these animals is much the same. 

It is more important that pussy’s welfare be closely looked 
after amid the close surroundings of city life than in 
the country. In the latter place she has as much free-*' 
dom as the barefooted boy, who frequents every nook 
and corner of the farm. She has many opportunities 
for finding mice and birds, and she can always be sure 
of a good meal of milk from the dairy, or food from 
the kitchen. In a city or large town it is quite different. The 
Cat must be fed and cared for as carefully as are other pets. 
What is said regarding the care of Cats will, therefore, apply mainly 
to the city Cat. 

Puss is naturally a very clean animal, and should be encouraged 
to remain so. A small box for her use should be placed out of sight 
in some well-ventilated corner, and be kept supplied with sand or 
sawdust. The latter is considered better, as it can be burned. Instead 
of a box, many use a galvanized-iron pan, such as is used for roasting 
purposes. This should frequently be washed. The sand or sawdust 
should be changed almost daily. 

A basket filled with clean oat straw or with flannel should serve as 
pussy’s bed, and, if possible, should be placed in a corner near a win¬ 
dow so that the sunlight may fall on it. The flannel (< bedding w looks 
better, but the clean oat straw is more to the Cat’s liking, as she can 
turn and roll in it. Its only drawback is that it gets scattered over 
the floor when she is leaving the basket. The straw or flannel should 
frequently be changed, and the basket should always be kept perfectly 
clean. If the animals are troubled with fleas or other insects, the bed¬ 
ding should be sprinkled with a little flowers of surphur. 

In cleaning a Cat. brush the fur well with a soft brush or with an 
ordinary bath mitten. A Cat’s coat can be greatly improved by 
washing, though bathing one of these animals is a delicate operation. 
She is exceedingly nervous and sensitive, and shrinks from the 
water, but kindly tact and perseverance will enable you to overcome 


1 44 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


her fears. She should be handled carefully and gently, and be made 
to understand that no harm to her is intended. Make a thick soap¬ 
suds, and, applying it first at the hind quarters, gradually go over the 
Cat’s entire body. After the suds is thoroughly rubbed in, dip the 
animal, hind feet first, into a tub of tepid water to rinse off the soap. 
Puss will struggle so hard as to make the operation very difficult, un¬ 
less she have perfect confidence in the one who is performing it. 

After being wrapped in a soft bath towel, she should be put into 
a basket of clean oat straw and be kept in a warm place. She will 
finish the drying and cleaning process by rolling in the straw and 
licking her coat. She should then be brushed with a soft brush. 

Most of the maladies with which city Cats are afflicted are due to 
unsuitable food. In the first place, the dishes from which a Cat is fed 
should be clean. Milk should be the principal article of food, and it 
should be perfectly fresh, as sour milk is likely to produce stomach 
troubles. When a Cat is very thirsty she prefers to drink water, and 
this .should be kept in a clean dish where she can get to it at 
any time. She drinks but little at a time, but will suffer if she 
cannot get water when thirsty. A very useful dish in which to feed 
Cats is one that has a partition in the center, so that milk can be 
placed in one side and water in the other. This insures the water 
being emptied each time that the milk is replaced or the dish washed. 

If properly cared for, a Cat is not likely to be troubled by fleas, 
but should these pests find a home in her fur, their presence will 
render her restless, and sometimes irritable. In addition to sprinkling 
powdered sulphur in her basket, as has been suggested, the same 
remedies may be applied that are mentioned as being suitable for 
dogs; or a specially-prepared insect powder may be obtained from a 
veterinary surgeon. 

Stale bread, crackers, or oatmeal biscuit, may be added to the Cat’s 
milk; oatmeal porridge forms an excellent diet, and fresh vegetables 
should be. given to her from time to time. Puss requires meat, and 
should have a small quantity once a day. 

Kittens can be weaned at the end of the third week, but it is 
better to allow them to remain with the mother a little longer. If 
any are to be destroyed or removed, they should be taken away one 
at a time. 

The Dog 

Of all our household pets, the Dog usually comes nearest to being 
one of the family. There are so many different kinds of Dogs, and 
they are of such varied sizes and habits, that a pet suited to any con¬ 
dition or taste can be found among them. A dainty, luxury-loving, 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


r 45 


little Dog- would be out of place in a great country household, where 
the children like one that will romp with them out of doors. On 
the other hand, a Great Dane or a St. Bernard is scarcely the best pet 
to keep in a city apartment. When seeking a pet Dog, therefore, you 
should get one that will suit your surroundings. 

The first act toward caring for any kind of Dog should be to pro¬ 
vide him with a suitable sleeping-place. The home and bed of a 
large Dog is naturally the kennel. It should be dry, clean, and light, 
and must be protected from severe cold and dampness. A 
good bed may be made of straw, covered with an old 
rug or a piece of carpet. A Dog of medium size, like 
most of the spaniels and the terriers, if permitted to 
sleep in the house, should have a corner prepared 
for that purpose. The delicate house Dogs which 
are very popular in cities, require beds almost as 
soft as our own. A 

The best plan in feeding a Dog is to make it 
a rule that he shall never have food taken from the 
table. He should be fed at regular times, and it is 
well to have his hours for meals the same as those of 
the family. It is a mistake either to overfeed a Dog 
with raw meat or to starve him on dry bones. The best 
kind of food for most varieties is a mixture consisting of 
a little cooked meat, plain vegetables, and a mush made of some 
cereal. The Dog should not be fed so much of it at a time that he 
will pick out the meat and leave the rest. His drinking water 
should be fresh, and he should have access to it at all times. Care 
in these details will go far to insure the health and good spirits of 
the pet. 

The smaller Dogs require more careful attention. These little 
animals should never have more than one full meal a day, and it 
should be given to them at about five or six o’clock in the evening. 
A little milk or broth may be given in the morning, but nothing else. 
In no case should they be allowed to have candy or rich food, though 
they are usually fond of both. Some of those having long hair must 
either be fed frpm the hand or have their locks tied back at feeding 
time. 

As a rule, a pet Dog gets very little training, but while he is 
young he should, at least, be taught what things he must not do. This 
can easily be accomplished by exercising patience and perseverance. 

Many of the maladies common to Dogs may be avoided by proper 
feeding. If a good Dog becomes very sick, and there is no veteri¬ 
nary surgeon at hand, it is well to consult the family physician. A 



I — IO 


THE KEEPING OP PETS 


146 


sick Dog should be kept quiet and should be carefully handled. The 
most common trouble to which these animals are subject is fleas. 

t 

A good way of ridding a pet of these pests is to wash him thoroughly 
with a weak mixture of carbolic acid and water, or carbolic or sul¬ 
phur soap. This is also good for mange. If the Dog manifest symp¬ 
toms of rabies, he should be confined in a cool place until a doctor 
can be consulted. 

Training the Dog 

The dog, if he be of the right kind, is the source of much joy in 
life. One cannot fail to observe that many great men have had an 
attachment, sometimes amounting to a passion, for dogs. Chief among 
these was Sir Walter Scott, who expressed the fullness of his love 
when he said that the worst thing about dogs <( is that they are so 
short-lived w ; on the other hand he added that (< if my dog should live 
to an advanced age and then die, what would become of me!* 

Sir John Millais, one of the most talented and delightful of all 
English artists, expressed his feeling for dogs in certain of his pic¬ 
tures. (< A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society )} represents 
a Newfoundland dog lying on a quay, ready to rescue a drowning 
child. <( The Shepherd’s Chief Mourner * is one of the most pathetic 
pictures in all the range of art. It shows the interior of a shepherd’s 
cottage, in which poverty is depicted with startling fidelity; in the 
center of the room is the coffin, upon which the collie rests his chin — 
infinite sorrow looking from his eyes. 

To the poor, the dog is a faithful friend. When 
calamities come, when human friends leave us, the 
faithful dog clings closer. The sharing of pov¬ 
erty, exposure, and hunger, seems only to in¬ 
crease his love. Jacob A. Riis, in his auto¬ 
biography, tells of his unsuccessful attempt to 
sell his dog. Being homeless, and literally starv¬ 
ing, he went — taking with him his Newfound¬ 
land dog, Bob — to answer the advertisement of 
a Wall Street man who wished to buy a dog: — 
<( But when he would have counted the three gold 
pieces he offered into my hand, I saw Bob’s honest 
brown eyes watching me with a look of such 
faithful affection that I dropped the coins as if 
they burned, and caught him about the neck to tell him that we 
would never part. Bob put his huge paws on my shoulders, licked 
my face, and barked such a joyous bark of challenge to the world in 
general, that the Wall Street man was touched. i I guess you are 





THE KEEPING OF PETS 


*47 


too good friends to part,* he said. And so we were. We left Wall 
Street and its gold behind, to go out and starve together. ? 

Rab, of Dr. John Brown of Edinburgh, has become classic in 
literature. Dickens has expressed his feeling for dogs in the por¬ 
traiture of Bill Sykes, a ruffian whose one redeeming feature was his 
love for his dog. 

At the same time, a dog may be a nuisance to every one except 
its owner. The ill-bred dog is unspeakably disagreeable. He snarls, 
bites, destroys clothing, and barks viciously at the innocent visitor. 

The complete family ought to include as Mr. Beecher declared, 
not only a grandmother and a baby, but also a dog. The adults will 
pet him, the children will find companionship in him. The child 
•that has never owned and loved a dog, has missed something of value 
from the experiences of childhood. The dog in the family will then 
be either a delight or an insufferable nuisance. Which he shall be, 
depends largely on the training of the pup. 

In selecting the pup, it is best to see the whole litter together. 
That one is always the most intelligent and docile which, in his 
puppyhood, is the (< smartest, w or most active. When the litter is 
nursing, - a slight interruption will distract the attention of some, 
while the others will keep right on with the occupation of the mo¬ 
ment, not appearing either to see or to hear. The former are the 
ones to be taken. They will learn quicker and obey better. 

It is laid down as a first principle that any dog can be trained. 
This does not mean that all may be taught with equal ease, or that 
they will reach the same degree of proficiency. Some dogs, like the 
setter, the greyhound, or the collie, have so strong a bent in one 
direction that it is easy to train them in that one line, and corre¬ 
spondingly hard to teach them other things. But this is not different 
from the variety of talents that are found in children. One child in¬ 
clines to mathematics, another to music. In movements, one child is 
naturally awkward and another graceful. There are many and wide 
differences, but it remains that in any case there is a wide gulf be¬ 
tween the trained and the untrained child. The distinction is appar¬ 
ent at a glance. 

As all children may be trained,— though not equally,—so all dogs 
may be trained. Professor Norris, a most successful trainer of dogs 
and ponies, whose exhibitions have astonished and delighted hundreds 
of thousands of spectators, is positive on this point. In proof of it, 
his collection of from twenty-five to fifty dogs seems to contain very 
nearly all sorts and conditions of dogs, no two of which are alike. 
And there are few or no thoroughbreds in the collection. His exhi¬ 
bition leaves the general impression that there are about half a hun- 


148 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


dred of <( thoroughbred mongrels.” A school of dogs is like a public 
school,— all the pupils may be taught, though some must stand at the 
head and others at the foot of the classes. Even the latter gain 
much. 

If you cannot get the kind of dog that is wanted, you should not 
be deterred from teaching the dog that you have. Indeed, in the 
matter of acquiring knowledge, the mongrel is often superior to the 
aristocratic breeds. 

The qualities of a successful trainer are not in themselves rare, 
even though the use of these qualities may be. All that is required 
is a definite aim, persistence, good sense and unlimited patience. 

The quality that is usually lacking is the definite aim. One wants 
an educated dog; but what does one mean by education as applied to 
a dog ? One wants his dog to perform tricks, but he has not in 
mind the particular tricks that he is planning to teach. He has no 
definite thought of teaching the dog first one thing, then a second, 
then a third. His efforts, therefore, fail. It would be astonishing if 
they did not fail. They would fail even if applied to an intelligent 
child. The child does not have a jumble of mathematics, science, his¬ 
tory, and art, thrust upon him all at once. He first learns definitely 
his letters, then he learns to read, and so is led regularly from one 
thing to another, until he is in some measure educated. 

An important point is that there should be one trainer only; but 
this does not mean that the dog is not to obey every member of the 
family. Teaching him to obey them will come later. But in the proc¬ 
ess of education, he should have one instructor, not six, not even two. 

The trainer should be the owner of the dog; or, if he is not the 
legal owner, he should have all the authority that will lead the dog 
to recognize him as the sole master. It is he who feeds the dog, 
punishes him, pets him, chains him up at night, first greets him in 
the morning and releases him. It will not be long before the dog 
will understand that he is in the control of this one person, and, in 
his canine fashion, he will be studying the mind of his teacher, for he 
grasps the fact that his prosperity and happiness depend upon his 
relations to this person. Not a few dogs come to be fairly success¬ 
ful mind-readers. 

In a house full of children, it is not always easy to give the train¬ 
ing of the pup to one person only. But if all are masters, there is 
no master. Then it will be strange if the dog does not learn tricks 
galore,— not the tricks that amuse, but those that exasperate. He 
will develop an intelligence of a certain kind, but much of his 
ambition in life will be to know <( how not to do ” the thing that is 
wanted. 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


149 


The punishment of a dog- should be rational. There may be little 
of it, the.less the better. But, much or little, it should be of the 
right sort. If the punishment does not accomplish its purpose, it is 
worse than nothing. Injudicious use of the rod will change a dog 
from the noble animal that he should be to a despicable sneak. A 
very little whipping will go a long way. When the dog realizes that 
he is being punished, he fears the human tongue quite as much as 
the lash. The punishment should be serious and deliberate. The dog 
should never be cuffed nor kicked and then allowed to escape. Talk 
to him. He may not understand your words, but he will interpret 
your tones and manner. After the lecture, you may dismiss him in 
disgrace, or pet him. In the latter case, he will understand that he is 
forgiven and is expected to live up to the standard of the forgive¬ 
ness. Things should not be thrown at a dog, nor should he. be 
chased with a broom or stick. 

These preliminary remarks are purposely long because they are of 
chief importance. The principal thing is to have control of the dog 
and to know how to teach him. 

If the pup is destined for a house dog, the first thing to do — and 
the hardest—is to teach him to live in the house. It is instinctive 
with him to use his teeth, and unless the owner is careful, the pup 
will chew up everything within reach that happens to strike his fancy. 
Such things as he is likely to destroy should, therefore, be kept out 
of his reach. Give him a rubber ball to exercise his teeth on. Some 
people give him an old slipper or a rubber shoe. There is danger in 
this. The pup does not easily distinguish between the shoe that he 
is allowed to chew and the one that he must not chew. It is safer 
to let him know that he is not permitted to bite any shoe whatever, 
and the ball will satisfy his reasonable needs. 

Then he must have his own chair or rug. Otherwise he will mo¬ 
nopolize every upholstered chair within reach, being particularly par¬ 
tial to those that are most luxurious and expensive. This should not 
be tolerated, and, with the right kind of start, he can be taught to 
keep to his own furniture. 

Nor should he be allowed to be noisy. The house is not the place 
for loud barking, nor for excessive romping. Nip in the bud the first 
attempts at these transgressions. Punish him as gently as you will, but 
let him know that it is punishment and he will quickly learn the limi¬ 
tations of his rights and liberties. 

After he has learned house manners, the next thing in importance 
is that he should behave himself out of doors. He should invariably 
follow his master, and at no great distance. This will save the master 
a world of trouble. The dog that is out of sight in front, then out of 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


15° 

sight behind, then barking at passing horses, challenging dogs, chas* 
ing cats, bits of paper and what not, to right and left, is anything but 
a comfort. But the dog that follows at heel is not only a pleasure to 
his owner, and the admiration of neighbors, but is of practical value 
in one thing that will be explained later. 

In teaching specific tricks, bear in mind that the lesson should al¬ 
ways be given before feeding time. If the pupil does well, he is to 
be rewarded with a mouthful of food. So long as he is hungry, this 
is particularly acceptable. As he has already learned that he will 
get his food from his trainer or not at all, he will soon see the im¬ 
portance of not alienating his commissary department. 

Again, lessons should be made short. Do not bring any lesson 
to a close .unless something has been achieved, for that would leave 
the pup as victor and encourage future insubordination. But, if pos¬ 
sible, let the lesson be not more than from ten to twenty minutes in 
length, stopping before the dog is tired out. This will make the 
whole course of instruction easier for both teacher and pupil. 

The specific tricks are of two classes: those that are useful, and 
those that are amusing. The useful ones also furnish amusement, 
but the others have no value in practical service. The useful tricks 
are manifestly of chief importance. 

The first trick lesson should be carrying. Give the dog a stick, 
or ball, or any convenient object. If necessary hold it in his mouth. 
Then repeat, over and over again, the words, <( Bring it to me,® or 
<( Bring me the stick. w If he will not follow, you may drag him — 
not too harshly — across the room after you. If it is necessary to 
strike him, do it very gently, so as not to discourage him at the out¬ 
set. As he begins to obey, even in the least, reward him with food, 
petting, and praises. But do not lose patience or temper. As soon 
as he has learned to carry, let the second lesson be that of fetching. 
Throw the stick a few feet and repeat nearly the same words as be¬ 
fore, “Bring me the stick,® (< Get me the stick. w When the pup gets 
the idea, — and he ought to get it soon,— he will enter into the game 
with as much zeal as a boy shows in a game of ball. 

The next trick is picking up dropped articles. This is for the 
street. Assuming that the dog is at heel, drop your handkerchief. If 
he does not of his own will pick it up, call his attention to it. 
Keep at it by various devices until he picks it up. Then reward 
him as before. Repeat the experiment many times and for many 
days. It will become a second nature for the dog to pick up any¬ 
thing you may drop,— handkerchief, paper, package. He will carry 
the article for you until' you take it from him. The practical nature 
of this is obvious. 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


*5* 


As soon as convenient, the dog should be taught to <( charge,” or 
lie down. This is noted at this point because it is intensely prac¬ 
tical. The best dog, no matter how well trained, will occasionally get 
nervous. This is likely to occur when visitors-^'., 
are in the house. When it occurs, it will break'' 
up the conversation, ruffle the most placid temper, 
and destroy the pleasure of the most desirable visit.' 

If the dog will, at command, <( charge ” and remain quiet, 
these annoyances may be escaped. The method of teaching is 
to draw out his legs from under him, thus making him lie 
down. Talk to him all the while, gently and lovingly, fre¬ 
quently interjecting the command. It is not as easy to teach as most 
of the more common tricks, but it is not really hard, and there is 
no good reason why it should be omitted from the curriculum of any 
dog’s education. 




Of the tricks classed as amusing, the easiest, and therefore the 
first to teach, is jumping. Hold a stick in front of the pupil, a few 
inches above the floor. Hold a piece of meat just beyond the stick 
and say, in encouraging tones, (< Jump, jump!” As soon as he gets 
over the stick at all, reward him plentifully with praises and caresses, 
but give gingerly of the bait: give him a bare taste, just enough to 
sharpen his hunger. The instruction is not complete when he jumps 
over a stick only. He should clear every obstruction, — jumping over a 
chair, a stool, the creeping baby, or through his master’s arms. Some 
dogs will never learn to jump more than two or three feet high, while 
others grow to be expert in this branch of athletics. 

Another easy lesson is that of rolling over. Reach under the 

dog’s body, grasp the farther front paw, then gently roll him over 

♦ 

on the floor. Praise and feed him as if he had done it himself, and 
soon he will do it alone. 

In teaching him to speak, the instructor must use his ingenuity to 
mimic the short bark, or yap of the dog. The meat or bait must be 
held near his nose so as to tempt and even tantalize him. He will 
incline to bark as a relief to his own mental agony. Your barking 
will fix in his mind that that is what you want when you command 
him to speak. Keep this up through feeding time. After a few days, 
he will consent to speak between meals. 

When you begin to teach him to sit up, put him in a corner of 
the room. The walls will support him and preserve his balance and 
this will make it easier and pleasanter for him. As a result, it will 
also be easier and pleasanter for his teacher. The point of caution 
is that he should hold his front paws well up. It is at this point 
that most teachers miss the best results, for although the position 


1 5 2 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


looks strained, it is really the correct attitude for preserving the bal¬ 
ance, and is therefore easier for the dog. 

Walking on the hind legs follows naturally upon this. The ele¬ 
vated position of the fore paws is of even more importance in this 
i in the preceding trick, because the balancing is more difficult. 

For shutting the door, stand him on his hind legs, placing his 
front feet against the partly open door which his weight will 
close. This might be classed among the useful tricks, but it 
is really of less practical use than one would suppose. 

These are most of the ordinary tricks suitable for the aver- 

.j 

age pet dog. There are many others more difficult, but they 
come later and require much time and skill. 

There is an old proverb, the doctrine of which is as good 
as the English is bad,— <( You can’t learn an old dog new 
tricks.* This teaches that the best period for instruction of the 
dog is early in life, say between the ages of six and eighteen months. 
But there is also an important corollary, namely, when the dog has 
been properly taught, it is easy to keep him in the right path as long 
as he lives. 

The time needed for the proper education of the dog is compara¬ 
tively insignificant, being but a few minutes each day for a few months, 
at most. The results should be gratifying and should last through 
many years. When the dog has had his training, he may be gradu¬ 
ated, so to speak. After that, he will obey not only his master, but 
also, to a reasonable extent, all the members of the household. He 
will be a useful as well as an entertaining member of the family. A 
faithful policeman, a sympathetic companion, a steadfast friend, he will 
repay a hundredfold all the care, and patience he has received during 
his school days. 



The Rabbit 

Rabbits make very desirable pets, especially for the younger mem¬ 
bers of the family. Their houses must be constructed with great care to 
keep the occupants from escaping. This they will do either by gnawing 
their way out or by burrowing. When once at large, the rose bushes 
and young trees, as well as the gardens in the neighborhood, are 
likely to suffer from their depredations. Generally, a rabbit house 
should be divided into two rooms, and should have a small <( run * 
made of stout wire netting, connected with it. The floor should 
be provided with sliding pans, which may easily be taken out and 
cleaned. In order to keep all dampness from the house, it is well to 
elevate it a few inches above the ground. In very severe winter 
weather it should be carried indoors, if possible. In order to keep 



THE KEEPING OF PETS 


153 

the Rabbits from burrowing- under the wire netting, it is usually nec¬ 
essary to drive stakes, close together, all around the little yard so 

that they extend into the ground about two feet. A box sunk in 

the ground at the farther end of the yard, and provided with an 
opening so that the bunnies can go in and out, will be greatly ap¬ 
preciated by them. 

Rabbits may be fed oats, corn, all kinds of greens, carrots, raw 
sweet potatoes, tea leaves from the teapot, and milk. It has been 
said that Rabbits do not drink water, but this is a mistake. Some¬ 
times when the little Rabbits are born, the mother Rabbit will die if 
she has no water to drink. Water should always be placed where the 
animals can reach it, though they will take only a very little. 

The number of young in a litter varies from four to eight. They 
are born without fur and with their eyes shut. It usually takes ten 

days for them to open their eyes and get their coats. The first little 

fellow to venture forth is regarded as the smartest of the litter. 

Rabbits are very good living-barometers in their way. Before a 
storm they become unusually frisky, and even though the sky is clear, 
you may notice a difference in their actions. It is then safe to ex¬ 
pect a storm within a few hours. 


Monkeys and Rodents 

If kept where there can be no harmful results from his mis¬ 
chievous acts, a Monkey makes a very desirable pet. The little crea¬ 
tures are so intelligent that a study of their ways is of great interest, 
and at the same time they are so comical that they furnish a never- 
failing source of entertainment. They are affectionate and will soon 
become devotedly attached to persons who treat them kindly. Mis¬ 
chief is inborn in a Monkey, and he -is always seeking some way of 
amusing himself. He finds great pleasure in hammering or banging 
something with which he can make a noise, and for this reason he 
should never have access to breakable ornaments. The best way to 
restrain him is to tie him with a light chain. 

He will very often make friends with other household pets, but 
sooner or later they are likely to suffer from some of his mischievous 
pranks. Monkeys should not be exposed to cold or dampness, for they 
are very susceptible to colds and lung diseases. As in the case of 
other pets, they should receive food and water regularly and should 
be bathed often. They will eat almost any kind of fruit that is eaten 
by man, and are especially fond of fruits, nuts, and vegetables. 

Some of the most pleasing pets are found among the Rodents. 
Squirrels are bright and frolicsome, and at the same, time are 


154 


THE KEEPING OF PETS 


neat and easily kept. A squirrel of any sort likes a warm bed, 
plenty of nuts to eat, and a chance to exercise, such as is afforded by 
a revolving cage. The Guinea pig, which was originally brought from 
South America, has become a great favorite among children. Prac* 
tically his only recommendation is found in his appearance, for he 
shows little intelligence. But he is cleanly and easy to manage, and 
makes very little noise. He is not particular as to his food, but is 
usually fond of anything that Rodents eat. 

Many other animals, large and small, can be domesticated, and some 
of them become very attractive as pets. In the west, bears and even 
wolves are taken when young and so trained that they seem almost 
wholly to lose their natural instinct to savagery. Children play with 
them without a thought of danger. Of course these do not belong in 
the class of pets, but they are mentioned here to illustrate the suscepti¬ 
bility of the brute creation to kindness. Of the smaller animals of the 
United States that are wild by nature, it is safe to say that there is not 
one of them that may not be tamed, and become attached to human 
associates and surroundings. The beaver, the woodchuck or ground 
hog, the weasel, the prairie-dog, all these have been trained as pets. 
Birds of almost every kind have also been caged, although some of them 
do not thrive in captivity. It is often interesting to take wild birds as 
soon as they are able to leave the nest and try with them the process of 

i 

domestication. If they seem contented and happy they may be kept as 
pets; but any such that pine under restraint and evince a desire to be 
set free should be given their liberty. To retain them as captives be¬ 
comes cruelty. 


% 

DRESS AS A FINE ART 


T 55 




































'57 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 

Decoration should always be subordinate to the thing it decorates. 

— Edmund Russell. 

A n art becomes a fine art when the beauty created by it comes 
into direct contact with the human personality, so that it is 
ministrant to the human soul. Dress stands in this relation to 
the individual; it is closer to real life at its highest than are paint¬ 
ing and sculpture. A beautiful woman, at a great moment in her life, 
becomes a more unforgettable picture than any oil and canvas; and her 
dress forms an essential part of her appearance. A well-draped figure, 
living and moving, creates a deeper impression upon human conscious¬ 
ness than can any statue. Art should be for life as well as for galleries. 

Art in dress differs in no essential from art in paint or clay, in 
sound or stone. The laws of art are everywhere the same, since the 
laws and meanings of beauty are everywhere the same. Yet every art 
differs somewhat from every other, there being some things that can 
be better expressed through one medium than through another. Words 
express what tones cannot; music expresses what language cannot. 
The rules of each art will be different from those of every other; but 
the principles of all arts are the same. Harmony is harmony in color 
or in sound; discord is discord in color or in sound. The difference 
between the meaning of harmony and discord always remains; yet 
harmony in color expresses something a little different from harmony 
in. sound. Each art has advantages and limitations. Dress has the 
advantage of a close relation to real life; it has the limitation of be¬ 
ing subordinate to the various qualities and needs of the wearer. 
But limitation, understood and regarded, becomes strength. It is not 
less noble to so place a bow of ribbon as to make a cheek seem 
rosier, than to paint a red figure where it makes a tree seem greener. 

Almost every woman may be so dressed as to look beautiful; every 
woman may be dressed so as to look interesting. Some women can 
be made only picturesque, but even the beauty of ugliness may sug¬ 
gest charm of character; and there are always beautiful features that 
can be brought into prominence. Ugly features can be in some way 
obscured, or attention can be drawn away from them. Every face 
has some beautiful lines, every one has some beautiful color. All 
women try to look well; but to try intelligently is another matter. A 
preference for blue, or for red, is not a safe guide in selecting a 
costume. Color is a matter of relation, and must relate to the 

r 


DRESS AS A PINE ART 


l S* 



wearer’s colors, not to her preferences. Dress, as a decorative art, is 
for those who see ns — not for ourselves. To make ourselves attrac¬ 
tive is a duty and a generosity, not a vanity. 

V The natural harmony of line and color in the human body is 
one of the highest forms of beauty. It suggests happi¬ 
ness and health; it is the ideal; and every variation 
from it is a discord. The object of decorative art in 
dress is to obscure the discord and to attract attention 

to the harmony; to increase it, in fact, by adding 

new elements. 

. 

There are laws of beauty. It would be strange, in¬ 
deed, if beauty only were exempt from law. And where 
there is law there may be science; where there is intel¬ 
ligent reasoning there is a development of faculty. 
Through the development of those faculties of the 
'mind which perceive beauty, taste is developed. Which lines 
and which colors will look well together is a matter of 
knowledge, and such knowledge is the basis of taste. Dress as a 

decorative art should be a part of popular education. The evo¬ 

lution of dress constantly increases the necessity for the study 
of dress as an art. Mere dress-making is now a matter of great 
skill; as a trade only, it takes years to master it; as an art, it takes 
a lifetime. 

Fashion books and paper patterns bring fashion to the door of 
every cottage and farm home. Home work has advanced as well as 
trade or art work, and both standard and execution still advance. 
The greatest lack at the present time, is a knowledge of the laws of 
applied art; but a science of art easy enough of comprehension came 
into the world in the discoveries of Delsarte. These laws were dis¬ 
covered less than a hundred years ago, and they are not yet gener¬ 
ally known, as most people think the work of Delsarte was merely the 
invention of a few gymnastic movements for grace-making. 

Truth is never in a hurry; it can afford to wait; but the oftener 
it is discovered and rediscovered, the better. Dress has received 
enough attention; what it needs is thought and knowledge. 

There is a looking-glass in every bedroom. For what purpose ? 
So that the clothing which is put on for warmth or covering may 
become decorative. Everybody wishes to look well, so everybody is 
concerned in some degree with decorative art. A knowledge of the 
principles of beauty is a distinct advantage. It is a help to know which 
things will look well together, and which will make a given person look 
well. It saves experiment; it saves time; it saves mistakes; it saves ma¬ 
terial and money; it may save failure in life because of unattractiveness. 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


*59 


Dress must fill many roles. • It must be hygienic and comfortable, 
and must leave the body full freedom of action; it must be becoming 
and decorative, which means beneficial to the lines and colors of the 
individual; it must subordinate or enhance certain features; in short, 
it must always help the body. It clothes the body and expresses ma¬ 
terial relation to life, but that is not all; dress has also relation to 
the soul. It must express character, subordinate itself to the spirit, 
and be a signal flag to the mind of the wearer. To these ends, it has 
many qualities; but supreme, and least often attained, is one final 
merit, difficult to describe or analyze, which, when present, is more 
eloquent than any other — that is, distinction. 

Every woman has some general characteristic which becomes a merit 
in her. The dashing woman, with red cheeks and black eyes, wear¬ 
ing contrasting colors which sometimes seem loud, is often refreshing 
and enlivening, and makes her neighbors seem commonplace or ob¬ 
literated. True, it is not very kind or very well-bred to obliterate 
other people; but, after all, it is best to let every woman emphasize 
her type. If you are dashing, do not try to be tame; if you are 
gentle and sensitive, do not try to be loud; for the result of such an 
effort is always near to swagger. If you are tall, do not try to be 
short. If you are little, and of a comedy style, do not try to be stately. 
Dress to express your character and to suit your environment. It is 
easier to change environment than character; and beware lest envi¬ 
ronment, even though of dress, change your character, obliterate your 

* 

strength, and leave you commonplace. It is the principle of good 
art to focus to the climax — not to smooth down to the dead level. 

For our present need we are concerned with the laws of harmony 
in color, line, mass, etc., that we may produce the effect of beauty in 
men or women. And, above all, we are concerned with the laws of 
expression; that clothes may become an expression, as well as an orna¬ 
ment and an aid. 


FASHION 

F ashion should be thought about, fashion should be studied. Every 
fashion has a cause; that cause should be generally known. Every 
fashion produces results; those results should be foreseen. There is 
needed a fashion magazine, a quarterly, whose editorials should announce 
and explain the coming fashions, show their relations to, or their diver¬ 
sity from, the fashions which they supersede; show how things lately fash¬ 
ionable can be utilized in the new fashions, and make clear what idea the 
new mode embodies. 

To fill the position of fashion editorial writer there should be selected 
the best informed writer on the staff. She should know contemporary his- 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


160 



tory, diplomacy, politics; for she must show raison d'etre of all fashions. 
For example, one of the new century fashions was the high-peaked hat for 
children, a copy or modification of the Mexican hat. Is it not interest¬ 
ing to inquire what brought Mexican hats into New York ? Who are the 
Mexicans that we should copy them ? What has brought them to our 
notice ? Or what mental need had we that is satisfied by a pyramidal 
hat ? What is its expression ? These are subjects school children should 
study. 

One great advantage we of the present day have over our ancestors is 
that there are always so many things fashionable. There is room for in¬ 
dividuality without being so remote from the fashion as to seem ignorant or 
unrelated. A woman feels insulted if you call her old-fashioned. Every 
woman thinks^ she knows what is fashionable, thinks it re- 

quisite that she should know what is fash- 
ionable; but this knowledge is too often 
superficial. The ideal fashion should lead 
as to think of cause and effect, should show us 
what we are choosing, and what effect it will have 
upon our looks, our moods, our character, and our relation to 

' society. There are leaders who feel that it is obligatory upon 

chem to be the first to wear a new fashion. There are other 
leaders who feel it beneath their dignity to be quite in the newest 
fashion. The aristocrats are a little above fashion. If you are 
too up-to-date, it advertises the fact that you are not above fash¬ 
ion. But the other extreme of being out of date, or behind the times, 
is also better avoided. Perhaps it would be best always to know the 
fashion, to understand the character of each new fashion, then to choose or 
leave it as it suits your looks, your style, your life, your needs; thus acting 
in the direction of freedom and individuality. 

Not a century ago, a single model of a bonnet would be the fashion 
for a whole summer, and every woman would be compelled to wear it, or 

to wear the last year’s model. There are, to-day, a thousand models, at 

least, all equally fashionable. Then there are suggestions by the hundreds 
for the trimmings. Their generalization is lightness, that the largeness 
may not be burdensome. For the modern woman thinks of health and 
comfort. She would not readily submit to a half-bushel Gainsborough, 
made of buckram and velvet, and weighing as much as a helmet. A large 
hat must now be light. Thus the evolution of dress is steadily toward com¬ 
fort. But small hats are also in fashion, something to be worn when 
one is not <( dressed up w ; straws and simple trimmings that can endure 
exposure to sun and wind and weather. 

The ideal modern woman must be becomingly dressed, sufficiently in the 
mode, and still must preserve, and always show, a touch of individuality. 
Let us not confound fashion and style. (< Stylish w means having a plan, a 
distinctive quality, a daring and interest, beauty of outline, unity, seeming 
simplicity of effect, no mere muddle of tones or colors or lines or masses. 
Style means plan, idea, structure. It takes a thinker to make a stylish 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 61 


garment. A designer of a beautiful garment to be made in duplicate and 
worn by thousands of women, stands high in the scale of artists. 

Sarah Bernhardt when asked if she were not herself who she would 
rather be replied, (< I would be an English duke and live in Paris.® Paris 
seizes and makes Parisian whatever its attention is for the time drawn 
toward. When Sarah Bernhardt is envying an English duke, French mothers 
and daughters begin to wear English clothes. Fortunately, clothes do not 
long remain English after they reach Paris; very fortunately for Ameri¬ 
cans, for English designs are heavy, hard of line, plain, smooth, unsympa¬ 
thetic, and generally trying to the more sensitive type of the American 
woman. They are impossible for the wiry French woman. 

It is the universal custom for the men of America to follow in their 
clothes, the fashions of England but the feminine fashions of England 
must usually be everywhere lightened and softened in effect, before they 
are suitable to American women. American women are overloaded in 
English hats, bony in English dresses. 

Yet to England we owe the tailor-made costume — a thing that will never 
again be entirely out of fashion, so suitable is it to certain types and to cer¬ 
tain places and occupations. Its beauty is in its appearance of simplicity; 
yet of all garments it is furthest from being simple. Its disadvantages are 
expensive labor —a tailor is always expensive, a geometrical cut always 
difficult to do well — and the necessity it involves of modifying the natural 
figure with the corset. 

It has been to some extent left behind by the shapely shoulder and gen¬ 
eral trimness of the Eton jacket, which being loose from the belt enables 
the woman once more to have full use of her arms. Every tendency in 
dress at present is toward beauty, freedom, hygienic life. We are living 
in a glorious time. If modern sports continue, the American woman of the 
leisure class will soon be as large and Junoesque as the English woman. 

What the advocate of bloomers and other ugly conveni¬ 
ences could not do, the tennis girl and the golf club 
easily accomplished. French heels disappeared from 
the tennis court and the golf links, and then from 
Broadway. Long and full skirts are no longer re¬ 
quired to vindicate one’s claim to womanly modesty. 

The tennis shoe gave us the street shoe; the bicycle 
skirt brought the rainy-day dress. Convenience and 
beauty in the golf skirt prepared the way for the 
ordinary short walking skirt. When society women 
wore short sk ; rts, short skirts became the general 
fashion. 

•rpqm i 

What the woman of leisure wears, the working 
woman wishes to wear; so the dress made for games is spread¬ 
ing to the shops. The more a street dress is suited to the street and for 
work, the less it is suitable to the house and leisure; and this different¬ 
iation of long and short dresses, according to occasion, is likely to be one 
of this century’s blessings to woman. Its results will be both hygienic 



i—ii 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


162 


and psychic, as the convenience, health, and strength, gained by the short 
dress will not outweigh the gain in charm, beauty, and sweet moods, 
that result from freedom in fancy and fabric in home dress. 

The tea-gown may develop into manifold forms of beauty, losing 
its old shape of a mere wrapper and giving play to invention of forms of 

beauty and expression suited to all types, moods, and mo¬ 
ments. A happy woman once said, <( most women have 
too little negligee experience . y) Why not wear in 
the sitting-room, library, parlor, bedroom,or boudoir, 
becoming garments, frivolous, fanciful, of any 
and every fabric, giving full expression to the 
wearer’s moods and affording entertainment 
and pleasure to her friends. The time it takes 
to change the dress from outside to home cos¬ 
tume is a very small price to pay for the psychic 
value, the rise in self-esteem, the cheerfulness of mood, 
which results. 

Three-cent cheese cloth and grace are sometimes more ad- 
,'mirable than five-dollar brocade and whalebones. Beauty flouts 
at money. It may be seriously said that there is no necessary 
relation between beauty and cost. Poverty is no excuse; short, 
at least, of that sordid poverty which makes even soap a luxury, 
and leisure unattainable. 

Fashion fluctuates, but fashion follows the differentiations of civilization. 
The evolution of dress goes on at a rapidly increasing rate. Now that 
the desire for health and grace and free out-of-door sports has shortened 
the corset from eighteen inches to six, and diminished its bones from fifty 
to five, reducing it to a mere girdle, it is possible, but not probable, that 
the terrible busks of our grandmothers, and the longest and stiffest corset 
of the tailor-made days may return; but it is very sure that return would 
not be general or lasting. The chicken does not go back into the egg¬ 
shell. Nor will the twentieth-century woman ever be as disregardful of 
hygiene and beauty, of comfort, and freedom of life, as were her grand¬ 
mothers. The modern woman loves work, loves play, demands life in its 
broadest sense. She expects to be a happy woman, a happy mother, and 
an important member of society. 



FABRICS 

From Cheese Cloth to Velvet; from Gauze to Armor 

O ne of the most subtle influences in the art of dress is the adaptation 
of fabric to the woman wearing it. Thick, loose cloths, suitable to 
the fogs of England, and to the Juno-like women who by preference 
wear them in tailor-made garments, overload the slim, bony, nervous, high- 
colored French or American woman. The most useful fabric is opaque; 
the most beautiful fabric is transparent. The opaque fabric gives its own 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


163 



color, with insistence, but yields its form generally to the form of the 
wearer. The transparent fabric gives its own color and also the color of 
that which is beneath it. This produces elusive and beautiful effects; 
color more changeable and complex, color blending, shad¬ 
owing, contrasting. Here new colors formed; there the 
old ones gleaming. 

I have lately seen many dresses built of layer upon 
layer, skirt upon skirt, of the thinnest fabric obtainable. 

The richness and delicacy of color resulting from success¬ 
ive combinations become as beautiful as a bird’s wing, 
sometimes as gaudily delicate as a butterfly. It is almost 
safe to say that if a dress is to remain feminine in ex¬ 
pression, very brilliant and contrasting colors must be of transparent 
fabric. 

Among new art fabrics one of the most beautiful and useful is aj 
strong, fine, white cotton lace and plain net, printed in splashes of soft- 
colored flowers, of conventionalized pattern but without much outline. 
When this is read these may be worn, or they may be out of date; but that 
is an unimportant consideration; the strong, transparent fabric, and the soft, 
fleeting design and color, suggest a means of attaining beauty which will 
remain. This lace worn over an under dress, or drop skirt, of one of the 
tones in the flowers is as beautiful as an organdie and ten times more 
durable. An organdie dress, the fabric of good quality, the color and de¬ 
sign go.od, is perhaps the most beautiful gown ever worn. It is elusive, 
suggestive, transparent; it is delicate to the eye and to the touch. It is 
the most feminine thing in cloth. 

The thing beautiful is on a higher plane than the 
thing decorated, or, as we say, trimmed. I wish 
that word (< trimmedcould be banned from 
1 the dictionary. -Why <( trim w a hat? Let 
, us (< make ® a hat. Why trim a dress to 
make it beautiful ? Let us make the dress it¬ 
self beautiful. Why buy an ugly fabric, 
and then sew lace and ribbon on it? 
Still it all depends on how the lace 
and ribbons are used. An artist must 
always be on both sides of the question. 
Among transparent fabrics there is one 
called madras muslin. In the museum in Salem, 
Massachusetts, I saw some bits of real madras muslin, 
brought from Asia, as a curiosity, by an early sea captain. They were al¬ 
most as transparent as glass, almost as fine as a cobweb. I do not know 
by what steps the commoner madras muslin of to-day changed from this 
to the thing it is. The women of the Zenana and the harem, always in¬ 
doors, protected, idle, languid, in a hot climate, could wear these delicate 
stuffs. For use in England, they needed to be coarser. The publicity of a 
woman’s life, the variety of her occupation, her size, her activity, all 





DRESS AS A FINE ART 


i 64 


demanded it. The coloring of the early English-made madras muslins, 
and their conventionalized designs, were of marvelous beauty. They were 
made just when the value of faded tints and low tones had begun to be 
taught by artists. It is one thing to make designs for a piece of cloth 
and it is another thing to make designs which can be executed in a 
loom. In madras muslin, the threads which form the pattern are run into 
the fabric and cut off at the edges of the design. This leaves the designer 
practically free as to how he makes his design. There is no fabric with a 
woven design which offers so much freedom to the designer; and of this 
the artists at once took advantage, so that of all fabrics in the market, 
the most beautiful designs and colors were for years in madras muslin; and 
although merely for the sake of change, manufacturers have of late made or¬ 
dinary calico-looking madras muslin, there still may be found in almost any 
large store a number of really beautiful ones. They make the most beau¬ 
tiful window hangings of our times. They have as good design as the 
most expensive lace, often better, and with the addition of color. 

It was for a long time taught that a really artistic dress must be pur¬ 
chased at the upholsterer’s. There the fabrics were wide enough to 
make good drapery without too frequent seams, or to cut skirts 
and cloaks of good line, without the interference of seams. There 
art had freer sway than in dress goods; but the manufacturer 
is ever watching for suggestions, and speedily the dress-goods 
counter began to supply this demand. 

There are still those, however, who buy madras muslin 
for dresses. Another element of its beauty, by the way, is 

the velvety edge on the design. These rough edges soften 

the blending of color and break the outline of the pattern. 
The most beautiful dresses I have seen of madras muslin 
i were lined with cheese cloth of the coarsest, loosest texture. 

Made in this manner, the dress, while transparent and 
soft, has a velvety richness of fold, and is as beautiful in 
effect at one dollar a yard as many of the most expensive fabrics. 

Speaking of cheese cloth as lining to madras muslin, brings to mind 
one of the prettiest and also the cheapest of the writer’s dresses. It 

was made at home, sewed in straight seams, only one curve cut for the 

armholes, shirred into a pretty round neck, and cost but sixty-five cents 
when finished, being made of cheese cloth at five cents a yard. It was a 
deep, creamy white — the white of unbleached cotton. The fabric was very 
sleazy, the cotton so coarse that the threads were a little like wool; and 
when worn for two or three days in hot weather the wrinkles which 
hung from the shirring of the neck fell into long, parallel, straight 
lines to the feet — lines which swung loose or swayed into a fathom of 
sweeping curves following the turning of the body. Bending or sitting, 
the folds broke into cascades of natural ruffles, exquisite in effect, and a 
real part of the garment, capable of unending change and surprises. 
Round lines are becoming to the neck, the face, and the head. This dress 
was shirred round and round—out toward the shoulder — not deep enough 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 




to flatten, but just deep enough to raise the chest. The shirring was 
drawn in to form a band-about the neck, which spread into a thick ruff 
below the chin and ears. The sleeves were shirred at intervals, and fell 
open and full at the wrist. Our artist has attempted 
a picture of the dress from description. 

I wish that some one would write a book on art 
in cotton. If cotton had in its career escaped starch 
it would be further up in the scale than it is now. 

We like things to be clean, so we wash them. One 
great advantage of cotton is that it can be washed. 

To give it its original texture, to make it look like new, 
we iron it. To advertise the fact that we have washed 
and ironed it, we starch it. Starch was the first downward 
step in the art of dress. Starch makes a cool fabric hot. 

Starch constricts the action of the body, spoils the poise and 
bend of the head, gives artificial motion to the wrist, develops a 
priggish primness in state of mind. Most cottons are more beau¬ 
tiful in texture, hang in more beautiful folds, and fade into more- 
beautiful tones, after washing. This is a cotton-producing country. 

Invention should exhaust itself in the production and use of cotton fabrics. 
Even Hamburg embroidery at a few cents a yard, may, if the design is good, 
contain the beauty it would have ruined a pair of eyes to produce with a needle. 

But let heavy women wear heavy fabrics. These, with large folds and 
long flowing lines, obscure her too round curves and justify her size. It is 
fallacy for a large woman to try to look small by wearing tight clothing. 

It has been said that fat is an enemy of beauty. A body 
made of solid muscle gets its shape and its beauty from 
the infinitely varying lines that result from the great 
number of the muscles laid one over another; 
but fat has little organization, it just lumps on 
anyhow and anywhere, usually where least 
wanted. For this reason it is better not 
to display all its curves. It has some ad¬ 
vantages, if not too excessive; and this need 
not be in these days of science. It makes the 
skin smooth, the face childish, often sweet, and 
is very likely to be accompanied by good humor, 
often merriment. So I should say, make yourself 
tne best you can, then accept yourself as you are, and 
take advantage of your particular style. 

A large woman can have grace, dignity, and repose; and her size may, 
if well dressed and well carried, make the small woman seen insignificant. 
Let her seek heavy curves, up-and-down lines, long, diagonal lines, high 
head dressing — hair and hats, aigret, bows, hair jewels — and long trains. 

A tall woman on the other hand may with advantage try to look shorter; 
at least she might if there were ever an advantage in looking short, for 
surely height of stature is a beauty. 






166 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


Time was when the shine, expense, and general awesomeness of black 
satin tyrannized society. One felt that words could hardly express the indig¬ 
nity to human beauty inflicted by a black satin waist. The glitter of the high 
light on the satin utterly obliterated the form of the wearer. But every¬ 
thing is good in art, and even black satin is used with some advantage 
to-day. It has its time and place. Nor are the satin fabrics as ugly as for¬ 
merly. Its insistence upon its own high lights has been broken in upon 
by design and color; the glisten of its surface has been softened, so that 
some kinds are now as soft as velvet. 

Art in manufacture is the bugle cry of beauty in our day. What we 
need now is knowledge, and more knowledge, and then more knowledge. 
In every school there should be a class in how to spend money. This sub¬ 
ject was at one time the most popular in a long course of very popular 
lectures. To keep up with the age, to know how to spend one’s money 
effectively and economically, is a subject demanding an increasing amount 
of attention. Which effects and how to get them, is a practical problem 
for the art schools. Nine out of ten of the students study how to make 
the chalk look like plaster, and how to make oil paint look like cloth. 
The time would be more profitably employed in studying the laws of 
decorative art, and in preparing exhibitions for the arts and crafts. 

Black silk was once the shibboleth of respectability. <( One good black 
silk dress w was the substantial teaching to every young woman, by her 
mother and aunts. One Bonat silk — we all prided ourselves upon knowing 
at a glance the quality and price, four to six dollars a yard — in which 
maiden or dame looked equally frumpy and self-satisfied, was for ten years 
the backbone of a lady’s wardrobe. Let my older readers think seriously 
of those days for a few minutes, and realize the enormous benefit and 
the untold common sense that decorative art has brought into the dress 
of modern life. In this country we are accustomed to say that 
art dates from the Centennial. So it does—some of it. 
J|l Then there was the early Victorian era in England. No 
time or country could have shown more Philistinism, 
ignorance or bourgeoisie , in dress. 

But England had its (< Centennial J) too. The event 
f which revolutionized fashion in fabrics in England was the 
^ advent of the East India Company. The importation 
of Oriental fabrics was a revelation to even the Anglo- 
Saxon mind; and in the fashionable sections of London, 
the Anglo-Saxon was well sprinkled with Celtic. In London, 
artists are <( in society. w Their influence is more quickly felt 
than in America, and the artists welcomed with joy and praise 
the incoming Oriental fabric. Indian shawls, probably the most 
beautiful pieces of cloth ever made anywhere, put to shame 
the English shawl of red and green Scotch wool. Even the Pais¬ 
ley, out of which we now make our artistic tea-gowns, was a long step ahead 
of former English weaving. Of the Indian shawl, more hereafter. The Per¬ 
sian rug soon routed that English thing of which you, dear readers, probably 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


i 67 


remember one specimen at least in your grandmother’s parlor,— the Brus¬ 
sels or Wilton rug, with a stag chased by dogs; or perhaps, a sleeping 
hound, or St. Bernard. 

Madras muslin, in the infinity of weave, gave variety from our English 
lawns, sometimes pretty though they were. Pongee and Tussore, washable 
and durable in their lovely rusty color of natural silk, gave a suggestion of 
rest from the lurid blues and greens of French and Italian silks. To these 
we may add the useful and beautiful (although striped) blue and white seer¬ 
suckers, real seersucker, I mean, the kind that came from the Orient, stiff 
with glue, hard as a board, and that had to be boiled for seven hours and 
dried on the lawn before it was ready for the scissors. 

Pongee is the next best for utility. Both fabrics, because of their 
saving in laundry bills, are cheaper by the end of the summer than 
starched cotton. Pongee requires care in washing. It must not be sprinkled 
or the spots will show. It must be ironed damp. Its low tone of rusty 
yellow makes it especially the fabric for blondes of low coloring. Its beauty 
and effectiveness for such a wearer can be believed only when seen, and 
these are among the most difficult types to dress effectively. There was 
a time when linen was to be had only as natural gray linen, linen bleached 
white, or blended linens. But linens are now in the market, and will prob¬ 
ably always be, in all shades of all colors, coarse or fine at need, beautiful 
and serviceable, for shirt waists or entire summer dresses. 

The early sailors brought many European fabrics to the Massachusetts 
coast. The sea captain’s wife wore Canton crepe shawls and other things, 
brought home more as curiosities than as objects of art. At the present 
time, shawls have given place to the more conveniently-made garments, 
evening cloaks, etc., which, proving a more complete cover * ing, are there¬ 
fore more serviceable, especially for street car, or carriage, 
wear. The beautiful Canton crepes , with their long, grace¬ 
ful fringes, have become parlor draperies, bed coverings, 
table covers, and even dresses. The best Oriental crepe 
shawl is probably the best silken fabric ever made. For 
there is a long way between the best and the worst silk. 

Cotton, silk, and wool; what are the merits of each? 

Cotton goes to the family washtub or to the laundry. This, 
places it first in utility. Clean cotton ennobles all callings. L 
The dainty white cotton gown of the trained nurse, the cap 
and apron of the housemaid, the clean shirt waist of every¬ 
body, have made great and hygienic advances. When cotton 
gets free from starch the domestic world will be very beautiful. 

One of the uses of wool, of which the designer has not yet fully 
availed himself, is thin fabrics in wool — loose, soft woven wool, such 

f 

perhaps as the Greeks used. In the substantial woolen fabrics, variety, 
beauty, and quality, can hardly be excelled. As we have it now, the best 
can hardly be distinguished from camel’s hair. 

Taffeta is noisy, shiny, unsympathetic to the touch, and generally Philis¬ 
tine, but it has its use. The slippery taffeta silk petticoat, rightly gored, 





168 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 



has shown the modern woman how pleasant is exercise, how easy is walk¬ 
ing, when she has her limbs free from entangling skirts. Nothing slips 
so comfortably as a taffeta petticoat. If it were only a little less noisy 
we would vow to keep it always in fashion. 

There could hardly be a less gracious material than black taffeta, so 
much used for outer garments in the place of woolen jackets and other 
wraps. But even black taffeta has one merit, and that is, it is not black. 
It is gray. For there are as many qualities of black as of white. Black 

silk is black and silver. The high lights are often prac¬ 
tically white. When the high lights are taken into 
consideration in trimmings, as in many modern 
garments which have wide bands of white silk 
stitching, or collar and facings of gray silk, the effect 
is not so ominous. 

Utility is a bugbear. (( It will wear well.® What of it! 
There is always a beautiful thing that will wear well, and 
an ugly thing that will wear well. Let us not select the 
ugly one because we are too indolent to search out the 
beautiful one. (( Will it wash ?® is another bourgcoise shibbo¬ 
leth. Anything will wash. It may shrink. If so, send it to the 
"dry-cleaner. If enough people patronized the dry-cleaner, dry cleaning 
would soon be cheap. <( It will fade. ® Most things are more beautiful after fading 
than before. They may not look so new, which is as often a merit as a demerit. 

Nature knows how to make beauty. Go study her effects. The brown 
earth, the silver-white sand, the gray-white dust of the country road, the 
blue gray of stone walls, and that silvery sweetest of blue grays, the color 
of old unpainted wood, split-rail fences. In the country there are the un¬ 
stained shingles of the seaside cottage palaces. These are nature’s beau¬ 
ties, as eloquent as the sunset, or the autumn maple. 

Grenadine is a beautiful fabric and always in market. It is the strong¬ 
est of transparent materials. It is somewhat unpleasant through being 
rough to the touch, but most valuable from the utilitarian point of view. 

Cashmere has a somewhat unsympathetic surface, but is beautifully soft 
to the touch, has an unfrivolous expression, and lies in graceful folds. 

The cheaper nun’s-veiling makes softer folds, and is therefore for some 
purposes better. It is still of wool, and if the weave has any body, it is 
valuable as making no pretense, a simple criss-cross of threads. 

The thousand patterns of crepe cloth, of late invention, will probably re¬ 
main in manufacture (for it is an innovation), varying in pattern, size of 
crinkle, etc. It has the advantage of an appearance of heaviness, with 
less weight than that of old-fashioned goods. 

Faded Oriental cottons embroidered in silk, although expensive, because 
we are obliged to pay for their antiquity or fading, are most valuable for 
house gowns. They utilize the wearer’s ingenuity and emphasize excep¬ 
tional qualities. 

The world has risen above the time when velveteen was an impossi¬ 
bility in good society, because it Tyas supposed to be an imitation of 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


169 


velvet,— an attempt at making believe you were dressed in velvet. But 

here again the artist has come to our rescue. My lady found that a great 

artist preferred to paint her picture in a velveteen rather than a velvet 

dress; so it came about that the artists preferred velveteen to velvet. 

The Liberty velvets flooded England with so-called art costumes; at 

any rate these were dresses and hats designed with disregard to Parisian 

fashion plates, and some of them were beautiful. The dresses were long 

and slim, showing the beauty of fold of the uncut fabric. The hats were 

heavily gathered and puffed, showing coarse or fine broken lines of light 

and color to blend into the hair, and to shadow the large English faces, 

and were perhaps not too heavy in appearance for the Juno-like English 

maid or matron. In course of time, Liberty shops appeared in London, 

New York,— everywhere,—and velveteen was good form. With the Liberty 

velveteens began a reign of soft and low-toned color that has been a 

% 

welcome relief from the tyranny of black velvet. 

In silk, Liberty gauze has been another avalanche from the silk coun¬ 
ters of the world. Liberty gauze is not now always, an Oriental fabric, nor 
is it even of Mancnester make; but no matter whether it comes from Jer¬ 
sey or the Cheneys’, light, soft, silk gauze is always welcomed in a costume 
where beauty is the first requisite, and is, perhaps, the only fabric that 
rivals organdie muslin. It was an old-fashioned Oriental silk gauze, un¬ 
earthed from a grandmother’s cedar chest and shown to me recently, 
that reminded me I had perhaps gone too far in saying organdie muslin 
was the most beautiful of dress goods. 

Printed Indian cottons must not be forgotten; for between the prim¬ 
ness of American calico, with its realistic French, English, and American, 
designs, and the decorative quality of printed Indian cotton, is the distance 
of at least one ocean. 

Among fabrics for long service, my eye falls upon a Chinese Canton 
crepe sunshade. The strength of the fabric has kept it in constant wear for 
ten years in succession — in summer, for garden party or picnic service, and 
in winter for a transparency between an ill-placed gas jet and the social life 
of the room. It is a protection to every woman’s complexion, a little ad¬ 
vantageous truly, because colored light is always in danger of killing some 
beauty, as well as of supplying some color need. 


COLOR 

A dress whose color spoils the complexion is worse than a dress with 
no color, a hat whose line spoils the nose were better not worn. 
Match your hair for street dress, your eyes for the house, your skin 
for evening, is a safe rule. If your hair is very black or very white, very 
blond or very red, or very yellow, the resulting effect will be conspicuous, 
but still distinguished. If your hair is of low-toned coloring, its high light 
and its consequent beauty may be enhanced by wearing a costume of a 
slightly less brilliant shade of the same color, and the effect of the like- 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


i 70 



ness will also give distinction. Likeness, or parallelism, always gives dis¬ 
tinction. So-called gray hair, well-groomed, is really blue, and is enhanced 
in beauty by wearing blue grays and gray blues. 

Clothes contrasting in color with the hair seem to indicate that you 
have tried to be conspicuous. The result is loud and vulgar. Parallelism 
looks as if you had tried to make each individual point inconspicuous. 

The result is that the whole picture of you is a unity, and 
noticeable, while looking as if you had tried to make each 
unit of beauty unnoticeable; and the effect is both beauti¬ 
ful and modest. 

Out of doors, the great amount of light brings out 
sufficiently the color of the eyes. Indoors, the eyes are 
much benefited by having near them their own color, 
or a tone of their own color a little less pure than the 
latter. Every eye contains many colors. Stand by a 
window, with a mirror, and note which colors your 
eyes contain, and then know that a dress of any one 
of these colors will make more apparent that partic¬ 
ular tint in the eye. Hazel or blue eyes contain perhaps 
the greatest variety of colors. Gustave Delsarte said that the 
light eyes are most dramatic, that is, capable of the greatest variety 
of expression. Black or brown eyes belong to the softer natures. Notice 
the ox, the gazelle, while the cat, the tiger, the lion,— and cat-like, 
tiger-like, lion-like people,— have light eyes. 

In the old times, before we studied art in dress, the blond wore blue, 
and the brunette, pink. If this were the rule, true art would reverse the 
dress, but the modern dressmaker thinks not of women merely as blondes 
and brunettes, but thinks of numerous types in color. Even she has only 
begun the study. The painters of the world so employ the flesh tints. 
The color of flesh is in almost infinite variety, and skin is sufficiently 
transparent to reflect numerous colors from its surroundings. The color 
of the wall, which is the background of your face, changes the color of 
your face. The color of the cushion on your chair changes the color of 
your face, and that of your hair and eyes, too. The color of your dress is 
even more important because more constant. It may be thought of merely 
as the color you think you like best, or as part of a color harmony of 
which you and your clothes form the parts. 

Reflection, parallelism, and contrast, are the elements to be considered 
in choosing the color of clothes. A necktie and mustache may be alike 
or different, the color shading up to the mustache, or the clearer color of 
the tie killing the color of the mustache. That which belongs to the man 
should be the highest point in the succession and have all the advantages — 
not the beauty of the cloth that he ties around his neck. The whites of 
the eyes in a man’s face are made more conspicuous and add force to his 
face by the presence of the ever-constant white collar and shirt front. 
Blond men in blond clothes are more handsome than in black; and the 
suggestion of softness that color gives to the figure emphasizes, while black 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 V 



diminishes, the masculinity of the man. The man who loses least in black 
clothes is the one with black hair and beard. He has at least the dig¬ 
nifying effect of parallelism, and consequent simplicity. 

Art in dress for men need not of necessity mean ruffles or knee breeches. 
Art is the condition attained by being artful, by using artifice. Men have 
hair which may be contrasted or matched in color; eyes which may be 
made larger or smaller by parallelism with the white of the eye; teeth that 
may be brought into prominence, or may be obscured by repetitions that 
are more white or less white than they; lips that may be keyed to a wealth 
of color by a red or pink tie, old rose, terra-cotta — anything — so that the 
color of the flesh is a little better than the color near it, which by paral¬ 
lelism, likeness, or gradation, enhances it. 

The lines of fatigue in an old man’s face are 
deepened, and the face hardened, by black A 
clothes. Parallelism between the dark shadows 
and the dark clothes increases the darkness 
or depth of the lines and hollows. Parallel¬ 
ism between his light gray clothing and his 
light gray hair enhances the look of clean-, 
liness, purity, goodness; and while illuminating 
the black shadows and lines in the face by reflecting the light, softens all 
into a generalization of the sensitive symphony in gray, expressive of 
gentleness, sentiment, cleanness, and dignity — where a black coat might 
have made him look like a roue or a sick man. 

Black is for the very young; and this is not a rule nor an opinion. It 
is a reasoning, according to cause and effect, as one follows the law of color 
effects by parallelism, of position and succession, into the laws of expres¬ 
sion applied to color and light and shade. 

Succession or gradation leads to a climax, and the climax must be some 
point that it is desirable to emphasize, such as good color of eyes, lips, 
cheeks, or a general tone of skin, leaving contrast to the strong effects of 
loud people; contrast less and less representing gradation, until we ap¬ 
proach likeness and arrive at parallelism or repetition. 

Oppositions express forceful, physical, brutal effects; successions are 
like melody — gentle, yielding — and express or suggest mental effects; 
parallelisms conventionalize and calm. 

Older men, older women, women of sensitive types of beauty, very del¬ 
icate girls, are helped and expressed by succession in color, the tones worn 
never becoming as high in color as the tone of their own color, however 
light that may be. Children having very clear color, with no outlines 
to be hardened, and no lines or shadows to be avoided, can better 
bear oppositional effects. Oppositions in children attain gayety and 
cheerfulness. A woman with plump face and very white skin gains 
sentiment by wearing black, and so enhancing her shadows. Some¬ 
times she, by contrast, heightens her high lights and gains brilliancy. 
Such a woman can wear jet and glittering silks and diamonds with 
good effect. 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


I 7 2 

I often speak of high and low key in color. By high key 1 mean pris¬ 
matic color—that is the colors of the rainbow — or prismatic color mixed 
with white. White light and prismatic color are specimens of harmonic 
vibration. By low key in color I mean prismatic color dulled, dimmed, 
deadened, or muddled by discordant vibration. As color is universally 
admired, and as color in the human body indicates health and happiness, 
the brighter and richer the colors, the better. Artistic or artful dress, then, 
is dress which enhances the color in the human body. Bad use of color 
in dress is that which by its own brightness, clearness, or high key, makes 
the color of the person muddy and ugly by contrast. 

Succession, then, is the dominating law of color in costume. Or to put 
the same thought into another form, subordination of cloth to skin is art 
in dress. Have health and happiness and your color will increase. With 
a given complexion, wear colors lower in key than your own. 

A blue ribbon so mixed with milk white as to become pale blue con¬ 
trasts with a yellow skin. The yellow skin is beautiful when it is a clear 
yellow; but pale blue ribbon makes a yellow skin which is not a clear yel¬ 
low, muddy and homely. An olive ribbon would by parallelism make 
the same skin look rich. Olive contains yellow and blue; the yellow 
in the olive makes gradation between blue and the yellow skin 
a step, a bit of melody. The blue bow was too high in key, it looked 
clearer and fresher than the thing with which it was contrasted. 
The skin should have had the advantage, but instead, the bow had the 
advantage. 

Dried flowers furnish multitudinous suggestions for fade tones, pale or 
dark, each having color, and still possessing enough grayness or other dis¬ 
cord to be below the key of the natural tones of the face. A bunch of 
variegated flowers thrown carelessly on a corner of a table or shelf or 
mantel, or arranged in a vase without water, and left so for weeks or 
months, will, if properly observed, furnish a large color education; for most 
exquisite tints and tones *are here. Old women, and women of low color, 
look most beautiful in these fade colors. They reflect light to illuminate 
shadows, and they reflect color. It is the absence of this reflection of. color 
that makes wrinkles in a face look so much worse in an unretouched 
photograph than they do in life. 

Very good effects may be produced by the skilful management of light 
and shade. Sunshades, like sunhats, should shade the face. It is more 
comfortable for the eyes; it is cooler. But sunshades to be becoming, at a 
picnic, say, or a garden party, or in the village street, or driving, — anywhere 
where one meets her friends on social occasions,— are better not to shade 
too completely. A sunshade partly transparent drenches the wearer with 
color, and it may be greatly to the improvement of her complexion. For 
the most insidious effects, the color of the sunshade itself must be of low 
key. This effect may be simulated by an opaque shade with a colored lin¬ 
ing, which will reflect colored light into the face. The greatest objection 
to the lined sunshade is its weight. It is an object far less sincere and 
beautiful than a shade of single thickness. 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 73 


What is true of the sunshade in regard to facial coloring is true also of 
nat brims. This is one of the points at which comfort and beauty do not 
always come together. Openwork shades, or hat brims with flecks of 
light falling through, are very trying. Spots are usually ugly. Accidental 
spots are always ugly. 

The power of white in dress is because of its reflection of light and its 
power to enhance the brilliancy of the eyes, the teeth, and the high lights 
of the skin. The high lights of the skin are very important because 
they help to make the modeling of the face more clear and brilliant; 
and white at the same time, by reflection, illuminates the shadows. Black, 
on the contrary, increases the depth of the shadows by parallelism, and 
still more by contrast with the high lights of the skin and teeth and eye¬ 
balls, which are brought into harmful contrast with the shadows and 
lines. The shadows and the lines being deepened, the face looks older, 
or more tired, or sick, or tragic, if either sickness, or sorrow, or age, have 
already made shadows and lines. Black is liked for its convenience. It is 
often said that one can wear black with anything; or that black looks well 
with anything. I would reply, (< Yes, equally well, but never really well. 0 
Too many people wear black. Only happy people should wear black. 
Only healthy people should wear black. Only young people should wear 
black. Let all with delicacy of coloring avoid black. Let all with faded 
coloring avoid black. Many of these types must also avoid every dark 

shade of every color. And the reason of all this is that faint color loses 

color near black. 

The nearer we approach the prismatic colors, the narrower the range 
of colors we can wear. I never wear a color that I can name or match in 

a shop. This is because of my general creed in dress, which is the sub¬ 

ordination of the dress to the individual, making the person — not the gown 
— the objective point of interest. 

. The tender, impalpable hues which cannot be formulated in words, the 
lovely faded lines, like those of old tapestry, or the richly blended tints 
seen in Indian shawls, are the most satisfactory. The individualist in 
dress believes that it is possible to take that which is best from different 
countries and eras, only so that it is adaptable to the type of the person 
for whom he designs. 

The beautiful jewel which suits your type and character may be the 
keynote to a long line of dresses, extending to a time when the com¬ 
plexion or hair changes — such ornaments, for example, as cameos, carved 
ivory, coral, intaglio, turquoise, dull gold, etc. One beautiful gown was 
selected because of the possession of a wonderful moonstone ring. A silken 
shawl was finally picked up in an old curiosity shop. The thin grenadine 
center had the moon-like radiance of the wonderful luck stone, and the 
border in dull Persian coloring provided against monotony. 

(< A good contrast 0 is a phrase that has ruined more hats and dresses 
than ever did shower or sun. If you give an infant a basket of colored 
wools to play with, he will first select the one that differs most in color 
from the others — in other words, the brightest. Even before this, the 


174 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


chances are that the first object that will attract his attention in this 
new world to which he has come will be the lamp or gas jet. It differs 
from its surroundings more than any other object about him. It attracts 
his attention. If you go into a barbaric land, with objects to sell or trade 
to the natives, and take with you beads of colored glass, or garments of 
colored fabrics, which by their conspicuousness of color please the bar¬ 
barian, you will find that that which differs most from its surroundings, 
that which presents the greatest contrast to its neighbor, will be his choice 
(barbarian or child). It is a proper beginning, but there are higher forms 
of beauty than the mere contrast of two things. 

The first step in the progression of the higher forms toward beauty is 
the contrasting of many things placed together. This would be seen in 
a Persian shawl, or a stained glass window, or in the basket of wools out 
of which an Indian rug is to be made. But in these objects of beauty, 
contrasting elements will be very numerous, broken into small pieces, 
intermingled, with a variety of shape as well as of color, and obscured 
from the mind by the design. Contrast, you see, becomes good when 
many elements are simultaneously contrasted. Contrast is barbaric, in¬ 
fantile, stupid, uninteresting, unmusical, unharmonious, when two or a few 
things are in contrast. 


JEWELS 

I N nature the most brilliant colors are in the small objects, such as 
flowers, birds, butterflies. Where large masses of bright color appear, 
the latter is transient — sunsets, blue sky, the blue and green of the 
sea. While the general color of a costume should be lower in key than 
the color of hair or eyes or skin, jewels may be higher in key. They sug¬ 
gest to one how beautiful a color can be. The glitter of faceted jewels is 
sometimes helpful and sometimes harmful. The Capucian stones of eastern 
cut and polish show more color and less glitter than faceted jewels, and 
are, fortunately, at last coming into the market in the western world. 

It is not well for a lady to let her diamonds outshine her eyes. Whether 
they do, depends upon the vivacity of her face, which is dependent upon 
her mood at the time, and particularly upon the light in which she wears 
them — daylight, gaslight or electric light. On the right woman, with the 
right dress, in the right light, they are supreme in beauty. On most 
women, with most dresses, in most lights, they outshine, outglow, and 
outglitter the wearer, and are detrimental to beauty. Very few women can 
wear diamonds, and these in very few places. There are very many 
other stones far more becoming for ordinary occasions. 

Hitherto the fortunate possessors of jewels have worn them after a 
somewhat haphazard fashion. The woman who glories in the ownership 
of what an old dame described as <( a tirade” of diamonds, is often only 
too pleased to have occasion for decking herself therewith; and it was no 
doubt with a certain shock of surprise that some of us read, not long 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 75 


since, that Sarah Bernhardt had been expressing in decided language 
her dislike for diamonds, characterizing these much-bepraised stones as 
(< unbecoming. w (< Diamonds unbecoming! How can that possibly be ? w 
exclaim the many who do not think for themselves. Simply because orna¬ 
ments are meant to heighten one’s charms, and these gems overpower 
them. Their glitter, unless, in very exceptional cases, kills the flash of a 
woman’s teeth and eyes, the axiom being that the brighter the woman 
the brighter should be her jewels; few there are, however, who can out¬ 
shine the brilliancy of the diamond. 

There are many beautiful stones to be added to those in general use, 
which are not now considered in the market, because jewels have not been 
enough thought of as ornament, but have been too much thought of as a 
show or commercial investment. 

First of all, jewels should relate to spots of color; usually the brightest 
color will be found in the eyes. The woman who knows the secret of mak¬ 
ing the most of herself, will dress to show these off. Opaque stones are 
best for day wear and sparkling gems for night; so that a hazel-eyed girl, 
who, if she wear jewelry at all, will frequently choose small diamond ear¬ 
rings, would look far better with larger stones repeating the color of her 
eyes. Such ornaments are not difficult to find. Hazel eyes have generally 
rays of different hue in the iris, and any of these — yellows, greens or 
browns — may be chosen. 

Labradorite,— an iridescent stone, somewhat resembling the opal, but 
less fiery, and of varied shades of gray, brown, and greenish brown, — though 
inexpensive, is artistic and harmonizes with eyes of changing 
hues. Cat’s-eyes, too, are beautiful stones for day wear, espec¬ 
ially the yellow Oriental cat’s-eye; though the green and 
gray quartz cat’s-eyes are not without beauty. According 
to one’s natural coloring, antique turquoise, topazes, 
cairngorms (because they are yellow enough to do without 
gas, and yet are not pitched in too high a key), carnelians, 
cameos, and lapis lazuli, may be recommended for day wear. 

Crocidolite — at one time rare, but now common — is of a 
golden brown color, and might well be utilized for personal 
adornment. 

A brown-eyed woman, with dark hair and sallow skin, if 
she have no true artistic feeling for dress, will probably go to 

f 

a ball attired in conventional black satin and diamonds, and 
pass unnoticed. The same person arrayed in an evening dress 
of soft, transparent brown, accordion-pleated chiffon over brown 
silk, fastened with lacings of cairngorms, and caught by a girdle of 
the same, ropes of cairngorms in her dusky hair, will look radiant, and be 
admired by all. 

A fair woman, with dark blue eyes, brown hair with reddish or yellow 



lights, and a clear complexion, will find the sapphire to be her stone par 
excellence;■ while the topaz, the cairngorm, and deep-hued amber, avoiding 
the lighter shades, will also suit her. Cameos, too, she will find becoming, 


I 76 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 



and an ideal costume to set off her good points would be a gown of Liberty 
silk or velvet, the exact shade of the background of the cameo, draperies 
caught by cameo brooches, and a cameo necklet encircling the throat. 

Diamonds, rubies, and emeralds are the most costly stones, and are 
consequently most in request because of the commercial instinct that looks 
on these jewels as a safe investment. As we have already pointed out 
vith regard to diamonds, they suit very few because of their over¬ 
powering brilliancy, and when worn at all should be worn in 
masses. 

Few women have lips sufficiently red to count against rubies 
of the lighter shade, and there is, in so far as adornment is 
concerned, no greater folly than buying dark rubies; at night 
they look black. The most effective mode of wearing rubies 
is to mass the lighter colored stones on a red velvet dress. 
Coral is far more becoming, though until lately but little used, 
simply because it represents a lesser outlay in pounds, shillings, and 
pence. The secret of beautiful and befitting ornaments lies not in 
their price but in their artistic treatment. A dark-haired girl in a 
flame-colored gown, with ornaments of red coral, the lightest tones 
being on her neck and the darkest on her hair and draperies, will 
ll^look strikingly handsome. After the eyes and lips, the color in a 
girl’s cheeks is the best point to work up to, and pink topazes of 
the exact shade may be found to give a delightfully fresh effect to 
the wearer’s color. An ideal necklace is of pink pearls in varied and deli¬ 
cate shades, and, indeed, pearls of all kinds are beautiful gems. 

And here it may be remarked that the throat is by no means the only 
position for the display of jewelry; at any rate if the lines are pure and 
well-formed. A necklace is sometimes worn on the corsage, formed into 
epaulets, twisted in the hair, or used to secure a drapery. If very bril¬ 
liant stones are chosen, it is best to place them on the head, the most 
effective place for the display of such ornaments; the space of hair be¬ 
tween them and the face softens the blaze, and they add to height and 
dignity. Women with full faces should carry their jewels diagonally across 
the head, thus giving apparent length. Brooches should not be pinned, 
as they usually are, in the center of the dress collar, but placed a little 
to one side. Bracelets and rings are to be worn in strict moderation, and 
of rings, the long marquis shape is supposed to be the most flattering to 
the fingers. 

The emerald is a stone that few women should wear; it is decidedly 
masculine in character. The turquoise is not suited for general wear, but 
those on whom it looks well should wear a quantity of the stones. The 
delightful milky opal, with its soft coloring and lambent fires, is coming 
into a favor too long denied it by superstition. With white, or rather 
cream, gowns — for no one of artistic taste wears a blank white — carved 
ivory is generally becoming, and shows a woman’s teeth and the whites 
of her eyes to advantage. The brownish hues of old ivory suggest a 
delightful color scheme that may be adopted for wear either by day or by 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


177 


night. A gray-haired woman in a gown the exact shade of her hair, 
with buttons of wrought silver, oxidized if preferred, and antique silver 
ornaments to match, will look distinguished in any assembly. The jewel 
may well be placed in parallelism with the wearer’s brightest point of 
color; or it may be the keynote to her entire costume, which, according 
to desire, may be in parallelism with the personal coloring, in opposition, 
or in succession. 

It is not the writer’s object to show that either parallelism, opposition, 
or succession, is better than the other, but only to show: first, that effects 
are produced by each; second, what the effects are that are produced 
by each,— effects of developing or submerging color. It is not for an 
artist to say which an artist shall choose. It is only for him to say what 
opposition expresses and suggests, what impression it will make upon the 
observer, what the expression of parallelism is, and what is suggested by 
succession. 

Succession is a kind of gradation; it is modulation by short steps from 
one thing to another. Like melody, it is never brusque, neither is it force¬ 
ful, save as gentleness is force. It might sometimes seem even weak. 
Oppositions or contrasts are always strong, assertive, sometimes too asser¬ 
tive, sometimes splendidly dashing, and again, vulgarly dashing, according 
to circumstances. Beautiful jewels, well arranged, splendidly related in 
color to the costume, can hardly be worn in too great profusion on 
proper occasions, unless they submerge the beauty or character of the 
wearer. 

Surely it is better to be an attractive woman than a mere jeweled fig¬ 
ure, but costly jewels can be so chosen and arranged, and so justified and 
helped by the color and character of the dress, that 
any woman may be beautified by them. I re¬ 
member a large, strong, rather coarse, homely 
woman, dressed in darkish silver-gray silk, wear¬ 
ing large masses of gray pearls, who made one 1 
feel that to be large and coarse and homely was 
rather a fine thing. I have seen a homely, 
thin-faced, dark-skinned, gray-haired woman dressed 
in changeable silk, with large ornaments of perhaps 
fifty large stones in all, of that opaline-colored, red- 
lighted blue and gray stone which travelers bring 
home from the Alps, who pleased the eye like the side 
of a vase or the wing of a bird. She looked as peacefully self-possessed 
as if she had owned the city. «Were they real ?» some one might ask. 
Real ? Real what ? Real beauty or real carbon ? 

A profusion of corals with a dress near their own color made a girl I 
know a success at a party. I remember an English duchess, a very large 
woman, with corals of rare beauty of coloring and of enormous size, cut in 
unusual, simple, and good design, but worn over a black velvet dress, ±. 
thought she flaunted her corals. ' Some might have said that the diess 
made a good background to show the corals. That was just what I 
i —12 





DRESS AS A FINE ART 


I 78 

thought. She seemed to want to show them. It might have been more 
artful, more artistic, to wear them with gray or pink or red, and to thus 
show them, while seeming to wish to subordinate them. 

A pretty thing is a lavender silk waist, with a very thin white lace 
bow of several loops and ends, five or six inches in length, pinned on at 
throat, belt, bust, or one side, by a central fastening of a large amethyst 
< circled with small pearls. The jewel becomes the key- 

note of the costume. If a contrast is desired, this 
i V s ^5 gi yes a gentle one with blond hair of low key. 
i|p< ' Jade is one of the most beautiful objects in the 

world. L The delicacy of its green shades, toning almost 
to black, and ^^j^**quite to white, constitutes a far higher order of beauty 
than that of the hard, V\ *♦?•£*”*,'* flittering green of the emerald. The emerald 
is beautiful as showing how vivid green can be; the jade is beautiful as show¬ 
ing how generally self-forgetful green can be,— letting itself melt into white. 

Jade, although very hard, can be carved so that beauty of design may 
be added to its color. It is a little worn in New York, and much worn in 
India. Its most detrimental quality is its weight, which makes it useful 
only for small objects. No small ornament to be worn with gray or gray- 
green lawn can be more beautiful than necklace and bracelets of soft, 
milky green jade. It is very suitable (by parallelism) for ashy blondes, 
while hazel or greenish eyes, by its proximity, are transformed from the 
unnoticed and ordinary to the highest order of beauty. 

(< Pearls to a princess are a futile gift; 

But note the workmanship — what craft of line! 

Intractable jade carved intricately and free 
As woven frondage, and the pearls in it 
I know not by what miracle of art 
Made part of it, and better than themselves 
Like berries in the mistletoe. Receive it 
As earnest of the rate I hold you at. w * 

Let us not forget that a jewel is an ornament, not a mere investment; 
that it is worn for beauty, not for show, and that there are many ornaments 
not called jewels which are as ornamental, or even more so, than the most 
costly stones of commerce. Among the most beautiful of these we find the 
amber. One of the beauties of complexion, a thing that suggests health, 
is the yellow tone; to this, amber can blend in all of its shades. Amber 
itself changes color with age, ranging from the palest lemon yellow, through 
the most liquid tones, to the warm wood color. Amber darkens with age — 
the newest color is not the most beautiful. It has been most worn in beads, 
but is little worn in the western world, because, to the Anglo-Saxon mind, 
beads have seemed to belong to childhood; but the great lines of corals, 
strings of large beads, which Rossetti has painted, and the ropes of dia¬ 
monds worn by New York women of station, show that this silly prejudice 
is becoming obsolete. 


* (< Birth of Galahad,” by Richard Hovey. 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


179 


Strings of old amber, with a dress of several thicknesses of very thin 
transparent goods, worn by any of those numerous women who have the 
amber shades in their hair, would be beautiful enough to make a woman 
famous for a season. The price of one small diamond ring would buy 
this entire costume. Let all brown-eyed women collect, study, and wear, 
amber or cairngorms. But the cairngorm is heavy, while amber is light. 
The cairngorm has been mostly worn by the Scotchmen, as a shoulder 
fastening to their plaids. They are not, however, especially masculine, ex¬ 
cept when large. The principle is, repeat in varying shades the color of 
your eyes, to enhance that color. 

Steel belongs to young women with gray hair; steel, and soft fabrics 
like silk or chiffon, to older women. Cut steel is very brilliant. It tones 
to white, and it tones to blue; so also does silver, growing darker toward 
black, it passes through the grays. These are the colors that by parallelism 
and succession give the greatest dignity to women of gray hair and blue 
eyes, or, as has been said, blue hair and gray eyes. For the grays are 
really blue, certainly not yellow. Before the days of Monet we had not 
observed that the weather-worn, unpainted wooden fence was really blue, 
not gray. 

To put the whole subject in a sentence, every woman has a personal 
jewel, one that is especially suited to her complexion, her manner, and her 
character; and she should make an effort to discover it. 


FUR 

T he primary necessities of dress are now more and more considered. 
These are warmth, covering, coolness, decorative value, mark of sta¬ 
tion, wealth, and suitability to occupation. Never in the history of 
the world were wool and fur so well used to give at once comfort and 
distinction to the wearer. As the northern countries dominate civilization 
in this present age, the tendency has been to an excess of covering and to 
too great warmth. The decorative quality of fur is very great. Natural 
fur is in almost infinite variety of color. The variations of long hair, 
drooping or spirited hair, or soft seal-like texture, make it easy to adapt 
fur to garment making and garment lining, and even to garment trim¬ 
ming, if such a barbarism may be permitted. 

The soft-faced, white-haired old lady in the long-haired white furs or 
natural seal, even the white seal, is a woman beautifully cloaked. The 
blue-gray hair of the younger woman finds a kindred in blue fox and other 
furs. Natural lynx is a godsend to any delicate complexion. Sable has 
both style and grace for the brown-haired or black-haired women to whom 
it is suitable. Mink and sable are for the typical American woman, most 
numerous in class of all, with rich complexions, and with brown hair varying 
to bronze. Chinchilla is the fur for black-haired women growing plentifully 
gray, since their hair is made up of black and white, not blue. Ermine is 


i8o 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 



most beautiful of all,— truly royal if worn on suitable occasion — but has 
the least variety of occasion of any. Its natural associates are point lace 
and pearls, fine velvets and brocades (if not dark in color). It is surely 
the daintiest and most elegant fur, and the one having the greatest dis¬ 
tinction when rightly used. It should be quite above the realm of simple 
contrast, and may be worn in combination with the stateliness of brocade ; 
for daintiness of color should be kept for parallelisms, successions, kinship 
th melody. Raw contrasts with ermine, (the creamy, pearly, 
beautiful white that it is,) such as red, green, purple, brown — in 
their heavy shades — would be very much like a drum beat in 
the middle of a violin solo. 

In the early and primitive use of fur in the manufacture 
of garments, in which it was combined with cloth, 
skins were generally used whole., trimmed off and 
sewed together, making practically a piece of cloth out 
of the fur. This resulted in garments of warmth, but 
not of beauty, and often at the expense of too great 

weight for any use other than driving. The activity 

of modern life causes lightness to become one of the 
most important considerations in the making of any 
garment. There are few occasions when one can afford 
to wear a heavy garment, even to gain dignity and richness. Sometimes 
the fur was the garment, the cloth the accessory. Then the cloth was the 
garment, and the fur became a lining. This was warm and pleasing in 

softness of texture, but very difficult to make beautiful. Such garments 

have nearly always been ugly. 

But at the latter part of the century, the matter of design of garments, 
partly of cloth and partly of fur of various kinds, was seriously taken into 
consideration by some leading artists and by all designers. The result was 
great variety, beauty, adaptability, and convenience. In fact, it is now 
difficult to think of anything good to do with fur that has not already been 
done. It has lined collars and the fronts of garments, so that the chest 
could be protected from the wind: muffs made and worn in several genera¬ 
tions, but discarded for their inconvenience, were finally brought into fashion 
for certain occasions when they were not a special inconvenience; and a 
great variety of other ways of getting warmth was found,— gloves for men; 
gloves for women; sleeves with fur at the wrist, made loose to turn 
down, or flaring to stand out over the hand, buttoned or not. 

A reform or a new start of any kind is likely to spring from some 
inherent quality of material, or in its use, and this is the chief fountain 
of the beginning of good art. Start from something that is not artifi¬ 
cial. For example, when modern thought about decoration in furniture 
first began to spread over the country, durability and return to simple 
lines, big square legs, frank square corners, thick boards, and the gen¬ 
eral Eastlake idea, had a strong hold upon the sincere side of the Amer¬ 
ican mind. Just so in warm garments; where certain portions of the 
garment needed to be warmer than others,— a collar to turn up around 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


181 


the neck, a double-breasted effect which could be buttoned up for 
greater warmth, or turned back toward the shoulders to admit the air 
to the body, or to bring the pretty colored dress waist into relation 
with the complexion, and at the same time to throw out decorative 
lines from corners and angles of the turned back portion, resulted. Here 
was room for the beauty of line to play unending melodies. A point 
here brought style, a fine curve there gave distinction; and that which 
can so easily be made a bungling load,.to be thrown 


off in an ante-room, attained to beauty. 

But even sham, art can make simple and ser¬ 
viceable. Many a woolen coat with its fur collar 
which pretends to be a lining and is not, is com¬ 
fortable and pretty, warm at the neck and wherever 
needed, and yet not too warm for walking. Lined 
throughout with fur, a walking coat, in most weather, 
would be too warm. The cloak lined throughout is 
quite another matter. There are some days when one 
can walk in it, and there are days when one can drive 
in it. And here, as in the case of a man’s overcoat, 
is opportunity for almost the grandest garment worn. 

It seems as if every wardrobe should contain one long fur- 
lined or fur garment. Here expense can hardly be avoided, 
but on the other hand, here is a chance to expend money 
legitimately. It is so manifestly for warmth, that beauty 
and display seem accidental, as they ever should. Even trained 
cloaks, made long so as not to break the sweep of line from shoulder to 
floor, and to cover the delicate dress over which it is worn, are on certain 
occasions charming. An opera cloak, carriage cloak, or evening cloak, is 
almost a woman’s birthright. It does so much for her. Thrown back 
over her chair, it protects her from bad backgrounds. Wrapped about 
her, it protects her dainty dresses from disaster. It is so large and so 
suitably made of costly material, that it may at will meet the needs of 
the richest, and cost thousands of dollars. But it may equally well be 
becomingly made of inexpensive material, and will still be an object of 
beauty and utility. Here Oriental or old embroideries may be utilized; 
Chinese silks, Oriental shawls, borders and laces can be used. Even a 
simple broadcloth, with an effectively cut shoulder cape and collar out¬ 
line, may, while giving all the elegance and romantic grace of the Italian 
capa or the military cloak, still have the distinction befitting the woman 
of beauty and elegance. The possibilities of design in this direction are 
infinite. In‘England where low-necked dress is much more generally worn 
than elsewhere, the decollete cloak is always found in every lady’s ward¬ 
robe. Its beauty will increase as evening dress grows yearly into greater 
use in France and America. 




DRESS AS A FINE ART 



1S2 


DRESSES 



A thing is the more beautiful as it is the more complete, provided il 
has unity and harmony of parts. Gathers are among the oldest ene¬ 
mies of beauty. Lines in sweeping and ever-changing curves have 
great variety and beauty, but puckers hanging from a string, in broken 
lines and starched angles, are usually mere discord. Sometimes if the 
fabric be very thin these lines straighten into parallels, slightly diverging, 
and become orderly, simple, pretty; but the gathered ruffle, sewed 
on somewhere, is usually meaningless and often ugly. 
One of the greatest leaps that art in dress has ever taken 
was in the invention of the circular ruffle. It must have been 

I 

- a tailor’s idea—a dressmaker would tear off a straight piece 
of cloth and run a string through it. The circular ruffle is as if 
the garment were made seamless and woven to its required shape; 
the thing seems a unit, the folds are radiating, orderly, exquisite, 
and, if the ruffle is wide, stately. Yes, the circular ruffle is 

1 n .. *' 

— the apotheosis of frills. 

,-y ;|jT So much for the bottom of the skirt. As for the top, can there 
be any comparison, apropos of beauty, between a fudgy mass of 
. gathered cloth, starting from a straight hard line called a belt or 
band, at right angles with the figure and obscuring a thousand lines 
of beauty, as well as breaking into all the lines that come down 
from the shoulder, arms, and body, over the waist and hips. 

It has sometimes been fashionable even to trim dresses with gathered- 
up lace. Frances Hodgson Burnett once said, (< Lace should never be 
bought by the yard, but always by the mile.” It is agreed that too much 
lace could hardly be worn unless it were gathered. Think of the mean¬ 
ingless top edge where the gathers are sewed on; think of the beautiful 
design in the lace jumbled and wasted (for why buy lace unless the de¬ 
sign be beautiful). True, there are some uses for lace, such as the edging 
of a petticoat, where only soft texture is liked and detail or beauty of de¬ 
sign unnecessary, and where the outer garment covers all but an occa¬ 
sional glimpse of the lower edges; and even here a ballet-dancer-like 
effect is too likely to be attained. A better effect in the soft hanging of 
the sheath dress skirt is obtained by cutting the under skirt after the same 
pattern, the ruffles being numerous, circular, and flat, and edged only with 
lace or other ornament, so placed as to give the full effect of its pattern. 

Then consider the waist, the end of the sleeve, the hand. Hardly a 
hand is so beautiful as not to have some ugly lines which would be brought 
into prominence by a gathered jumble around the end of the sleeve. For 
a gathered ruffle has fat, clumsy, ugly curves, and if any such appear in 
the hand, it would help to bring them into prominence. This is one of the 
first places where parallelism must be avoided. But let a flat, circular 
piece be cut for the wrist, repeating in character the bottom of the dress, 
and simplicity and elegance are attained, with a protecting becomingness 




DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1^3 

to the hand. The hand is placed in a sheath or cup, which by its linings 
of color may also reflect beauty into the skin. This sleeve-ending can be 
finished in corners or points, or curves or lines or angles, for the sake of 
style; and the throat collar has of late years repeated it in a thousand 
graces of flare and finish, making most helpful backgrounds to the face. 

The bottom of the cloak, repeating by the same circular ruffle the gen- 
ral character of the dress, has given to our time the greatest elegance and 
dignity in opera and carriage wraps. In fact we are living in an age when 
art in dress transcends that of any time or clime. For the problem of the 
Greek, whose rivalry is likely to be first mentioned, was such a simple 
problem as to appear little by comparison with the needs of the modern 
dress. The simple, almost idyllic life, the warm climate, the poverty of 
manufacture, the little variety of occupation, made a straight piece of cloth 
hung from the shoulders in one simple manner, or twisted about at the will 
of the wearer, all that was needed. A folklore song of tuneful melody, 
however beautiful, can hardly be compared with a Wagner overture. 
Greek dress was beautiful of its kind — we include it among our kinds. 
Probably there are as many Greek dresses in New York to-day as were 
ever at any one time in Athens. They are worn for house gowns, stage 
gowns, sleeping robes, etc. 

The Greek dress was dignified and graceful and beautiful. Beautiful 
for its sincerity and simplicity, yea, for its primitiveness; but would it not 
be a little voluminous for modern work-a-day life ? Truly it would. No 
Greek gown would give half the freedom that does an uncorseted, well-made 
bicycle suit. This primitive dress is a good model for tea gowns, and, in 
modern life, for that only. A modified Greek gown may often make a 
becoming platform dress for reader or lecturer or teacher, but for general 
use, it is an entirely worthless model. Modern dress at its best is as 
much better as modern life is more inspiring and intricate. 

The beauty and becomingness of a dress have nothing to do with money. 
It has to do with thought, tact, education, industry. Defective dress is not 
due to want of money. It is due to indolence, ignorance, or false ideals. 
If money is the motive, and show the object, not money, nor the absence 
of, it will effect good dressing. As said long ago by G. F. Watts: (< Taste 
can have no definite limits excepting those that can be referred to simple 
principles; while it is easier to say what is not in good taste than what is, 
it is safe to say that whatever outrages acknowledged principles cannot be 
in good taste.® 

There are those who regard as immodest a dress cut low in the neck. 
We forget that among our American ancestors, children, girls, and women 
wore such dresses in the daytime as well as in the evening. And the 
daytime receptions of <( The Great Queen» have preserved the custom. 
Nobody thought of immodesty in the old New England summers, but 
only of coolness, sweetness, and beauty; yet there are those, loud of voice 
and pen, who now decry a low-necked evening gown as positively sinful. 

Far more unpleasant and harmful are the shriveled, wrinkled, puny necks 
caused ,by the late fashion of high throat bindings — high and stiff, for 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


I 84 

they must be stiff if they are so high. But after some years of neck deco¬ 
ration by the stiff collar in its various forms, from linen to velvet, some 
genius thought of lace or silk supported by a wire or two, all tolerably 
soft and harmless. Now the wonder is that this was not thought of by 
the first woman who turned the leaves of the high-collar fashion plate. 

Halliday says: <( It cannot be good taste to diminish the noble and 
graceful character of the shoulders by losing the quality of the upspring' 
ing stem of the neck from them, and this is effectually done by the igno¬ 
ble arrangement of the tailor-made coat. Neither the plea of convenience, 
neatness, or necessary stiffness of material, can be urged for the utter 
abandonment of natural grace. At one period in medieval times, the stiff- 
est and most uncompromising of materials that covering could be made of 
— metal — was compelled to administer to the sense of beauty, and became 
its servant in most delightful combinations. w 

I said long ago that art in dress went out when scissors came in, but 
the scissors have well-nigh redeemed themselves and justified their exist¬ 
ence, for both art and beauty are fast returning, and bid fair to make up 
the quarrel between sense and comfort on the one hand, and necessity and 
style on the other. It sometimes seems as if there were nothing more 
plebeian than the insistent newspaper woman’s, or reformer’s, supposition 
that it is impossible for a woman to think in a low-necked gown. Now it 
is a fact that among those women who habitually wear <( evening dress ® 
are found the most brilliant, accomplished, and useful women of the world. 
One might cite Queen Alexandra, nearly all of the women novelists and 
poets, nearly all of the women painters and sculptors, most'of the women 
influential in diplomacy, college girls, and college teachers; and in those 
circles where large evening gatherings are customary, nearly all of the kindly 
mothers and grandmothers. 

If, then, there is no reason why evening dress should not be worn, one 
must consider whether there is any reason why it should. There are two 
reasons why it is a good custom — beauty and economy. There is no 
fabric and form so becoming to a beautiful woman’s face as her own 
shoulders and skin. This is the origin for our old-time saying-for evening 
match the color of the dress to the tone of the lady’s skin, while for other 
lights, eyes, hair, teeth, etc., should be taken as keynotes. 

In America, the beautiful and dressy afternoon gown, with fancy bonnet 
or picture hat, is fast superseding the English fashion of low neck, save 
in the wealthy homes of the large cities. The afternoon dress is even 
more costly than the promenade or carriage dress. It is of the richest 
material, of the most skilled cut, and of great elaboration of ornament; or, 
if of the tailor-made order, it is of such exquisiteness of shape, fit, and out¬ 
line, as to require the greatest professional skill of the tailor. And this 
costs much. An evening dress may even be beautiful and becoming with¬ 
out being fitted at all, or even cut; for color and drapery go so far. And 
here it is interesting to note that many of the best modern dresses have 
only the lining fitted or shaped to the figure, while the outside goods is 
draped on, drawn tightly in folds, or stretched without them; but not 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


t8 5 

scissored and sewed into geometrical puzzles of line that obscure or jangle 
natural outline. 

Shirt waists are worn for their convenience. The possibility of frequent 
change, the inexpensive service of the laundress or the cleaner, make them 
a great advantage in hygienic cleanliness. They furnish also a custom of 
economy, by making of inexpensive material that part of the dress which 
wears out soonest. This waist, copied as its name indicates from a man’s 
shirt, with collar and cuffs and tie exactly like those of the shirt, was first 
worn by those women who joined in men’s out-of-door sports. It crossed 
the channel to Paris, blossomed into style, grace, and an infinity of fabrics, 
and finished its voyage to America just in time to arrive when the un¬ 
cleanliness of the ordinary lined dress waist, basque, or coat, had made woman 
begin to see that something was required other than the long-suffering and 
inefficient corset cover. 

It is always interesting to note how one change produces another. 
Woman discovered that a tight-fitting basque or bodice, or round waist, 
confined her movements; and having put herself into a shirt waist for 
her occupations of work or play, she began to think of further differentia¬ 
tions of the dress waist. It had a greasy neck, so she cut out the neck 
and put in a guimpe, which could be frequently and cheaply changed. 
Finding that she could have many changes of these little guimpes,— light, 
dark; lace, silk, cotton,— society blossomed into an infinite variety of clean, 
pretty clothes. So the ugliness of the man’s collar — for occasions when 
we wish to advertise that we are not now trying to look pretty, we are 
not now (< dressed ”— brought us much prettier and much dressier waists for 
occasions when they are suitable. 

The undress look of the shirt waist while one is in the cars and on the 
streets, on the way to one’s work, to golf, or other occupation, has bred 
another good thing,— the tiny coat or Eton jacket, so convenient to wear, 
so economical of material, so pretty in cut. But as in the case of the 
shirt waist, a garment to be popular and in general use must have oppor¬ 
tunity for the use of beautiful and varied materials, and the great firms 
have learned to select the best selling patterns or designs to be multiplied 
a million fold and to be sold, ready for wear, to the large classes who lack 
taste, or time, to design for themselves, and whose home product would in 
any case have far less finish than the once scored ready-made garment. 
American manufacturers have put to shame even custom-made shoes. The 
scientific cut of American shoes, at least before the introduction of the 
recent military pattern, furnished a more shapely and comfortable foot 
covering than any custom shoe ever produced. The general standard of 
dress has risen chiefly by means of this mercantile trick of the manufac¬ 
turer, and by the introduction of the scientifically cut, machine-made paper 
pattern. 

The artistic disadvantages of the shirt waist have been so frequently 
done away with at the neck and sleeves that they are hardly worth men¬ 
tioning. Tucks, shirrings, wired lace throat bands and the like, have given 
variety and beauty. The belt was more difficult of treatment, slower of 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


186 

evolution. I think it may be said that of all lines drawn on the human 
figure, a straight line across the body at the waist is the most detrimental to 
beauty. G. F. Watts says: (( To interrupt the harmonious intention of the 
column, carried out through the human form, by cutting it in half, in 
imitation, as far as possible, of the insect, must be condemned, especially 
as this degrading effect is enhanced by the apparent shortening of the 
lower limbs and the hideousness of the abrupt jutting out under the com¬ 
pressed waist; all this accentuated by the skirt drawn tightly over the body, 
to the loss of all grace of form, and worse. That lines are beautiful in 
proportion to their capacity for variety, and the interest greater by the 
display of light and shade—that length of line gives height and distinc¬ 
tion to the human figure — are principles which should never be ignored 
by any who would cultivate the delightful art of dressing with good 
taste. w 

r 

But the shirt waist gives a line worse even than that of any belt, the 
difference in color between the waist and skirt, the upper third of the 
body being almost uniformly light or bright—advantageous, truly, to 
the face — and the skirt almost uniformly dark. At last, however, shapely 
girdles have begun to modulate between waist and skirt in the more elab¬ 
orate costumes. This is a distinct advantage, especially as the girdle 
quickly resolves itself into a thing with lines differing in the back and 
front, curves unlike at top and bottom, all adjustable to the special needs 
of each figure. 

The writer does not say, wear shirt waists; does not say, do not wear 
shirt waists. She is not a dictator. She is a student of the art of dress 
the philosophy of fashion, and has only the hope of being helpful to her 
readers by suggesting to them ways of thinking about fashions, hoping 
that the habit of studying the fashion of to-day will leave the mind of the 
reader better prepared for adapting and utilizing the fashion of to-morrow. 
We cannot give recipes for good dressing. We can talk about the laws 
of beauty, and suggest the artful ways of adapting them to manifold indi¬ 
vidual needs. Only thus far is it wise to attempt to go, at least in a 
brief paper like this. We are beginning to have classes for dressmak¬ 
ing and schools of dressmaking. Let us hope to see a studio school for 
the study of dress as an art, as a utility, as an expression. 


DRESS REFORM 

I n former days, corsets a foot or two in length from top to bottom, stiff 
and heavy, killing every beauty of motion of the figure, were necessary 
to hold in place and obscure a mass of bindings and gathers of the 
multiple undergarments worn. The first teachings in regard to hygienic 
dress were most convincing to the mass of American women. Almost 
every woman had chronic backache, and it was taught that the heat on the 
back caused by these duplicated and gathered garments was largely the 
source of the pain. Also, that the weight of dress skirts and petticoats, 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


187 


faced with heavy materials, lined and sometimes padded, caused further 
injury and consequent pain. Then the bands upon bands about the waist, 
which held these various garments,— underdrawers, drawers, flannel petti¬ 
coat, thin muslin short petticoat to cover the flannel one, chemise, perhaps, 
then a long petticoat or two, then the dress skirt,— all were girt firmly 
around that portion of the trunk of the body where there are, save at the 
spine, no bones to protect the soft vital organs inside. Everything con¬ 
spired to produce that one curse of the American woman’s life — back¬ 
ache. Every woman was ready for the change if only it would be in 
fashion. The fashion maker far away in Paris, London, or New York, 
like the manufacturer, always has his ear to the ground. He is, after all, 
but the salaried servant of society. So when complaints of all this were 
carried by the wives of American millionaires to the 
Paris dressmakers, Worth said, <( Then we must take off 
the corset.” But the attempt to do this was not successful, 
so he invented the (( straight front” instead of the crushed-in 
curve between breast and abdomen, and thereby gave half 
a foot of extra room to the heart, stomach, lungs, and liver. 

As the illustrations show, the modern long waist, with 
straight front, is far more hygienic than was the long-' 
waisted dress of olden time. 

The whole trend of modern dress is toward simplification 
in the number of garments worn. Petticoats are less 
in number; drawers and corset cover have become 
one garment (even this often discarded for knit shirt 
and tights, which in turn have grown to a single gar¬ 
ment), avoiding a bungle of material about the waist and 
hips and back, and getting rid of one of the thickest and most clumsy 
bindings; so that three or four garments complete the costume. 

The history of the American dress reform movement will be inter¬ 
esting reading some day, but we are hoping it will not be written until 
the present art movement shall have completed the work begun in ug¬ 
liness and good faith, and shall have justified the original idea that 
hygiene and beauty are not antagonistic, that sincere lives have no quarrel 
with beautiful clothes. 

In this age, all eyes are upon America, and it is now many years since 
first were seen in the best Paris shops copies and adaptations of Amer¬ 
ican dress reform garments, so beautified as to be not much more . like 
their originals than a silk waist from the Rue de la Paix is like an 
English country girl’s shirt waist. And when even the millionairess caught 
her breath at the idea of no corset at all, Worth, who like all great thinkers 
hunted for the essential idea in a subject, asked himself, <( What is the 
thing that is really needed?” And the purchaser was not long in ex¬ 
plaining that American women lead active lives, are devoted to work and 
to play, and had discovered the need of large lungs, space enough for an 
uncrowded heart, free digestion, unharmed livers, and naturally curved 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


188 


spines; and in general, that an American woman wished to be comforta¬ 
ble in her clothes, and to have freedom for grace and strength and growth. 
She knew that an active brain and a joyous life can be sustained only by 
natural, healthy vital organs. The slab-sided corset went, large curves 
appeared under the arm, complex, beautiful curves, like Hogarth’s line of 
beauty, with longer lines over the hips. Corsets became narrow in the 
back where little room is needed, wide in the front where the ribs expand; 
the steels slipped down from the breastbone to the belt; so that to-day a 
woman of sense, without a desire for foolish exaggeration of hips or waist, 
may be corseted without much harm to health, or hindrance to natural 
shape. Lungs have come into fashion. That strong swell of the body 
where the ribs end below the breast, so often pointed out by the artists 

teachers in classes and studios, is now not only found but 
it is encouraged in the well-dressed girl and woman. 
The athletic girl frequently discards any corset or 
even girdle at all, as an insult to her live body. 
Formerly, the abdomen and bust were brought into 
prominence, while that most important breathing 
and digesting region was crushed under a curved 
hollow toward the body, where now a convex line 
above the corset band gives, as before stated, half a 
foot of extra room for lungs, stomach, and heart. 
And incidentally, in accomplishing this change in the 
corset, the ugly cross line on the figure disappeared, 
I so that the dress became long-waisted in the front 
p: and short-waisted in the back, advertising, suggest- 
==#& encouraging the Gibson-girl poise, the Du Maurier- 
duchess car- riage, Juno-like, imposing, lady-like. 

Among the things which helped to bring about the change in modern 
fashions toward both hygiene and beauty was a book called (< Beauty of Form 
and Grace of Gesture,written by Frances Mary Steele and her daughter, 
Elizabeth Livingston Steele Adams: — 



<( However desirable a change in ways of thinking or customs of living be rec¬ 
ommended, however salutary an improvement be proposed, there is in human 
nature an inertia that resents disturbance from accustomed methods, or removal 
from ordinary grooves. Especially is the substitution of one standard for another 
most difficult to effect, even though a higher ideal be presented. It is so much 
easier to be regardless of vitiated air and to continue to breathe it, of adulter¬ 
ated food and to continue to consume it, of evil doctrine and to continue to 
hear it, of wrong impulse and to continue to follow it. The bad is facile, the 
good is difficult. But the normal condition of growing souls is struggle. We 
cannot consent to give it over. The position of woman in all the world of the 
past has made her conservative and timorous. Even to move to a higher plane 
demands from her unwonted courage. It is not strange, then, that incentives 
toward improvement of physical form and vesture meet indifference, distrust, and 
positive objections. A few of the more serious ones urged against any change to 



DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 89 


better dress might be frankly answered, 
advantages they undervalue? 

(( Love of beauty is not the highest motive. 

I hate to be conspicuous. 

There are no artistic dressmakers. 

I don’t know how. 

I have no taste. 

The effort is too expensive. 

I should look too queer. 

I have to attract attention. 

I can’t sit up without a corset. 

My bust is pendulous. 

I am too busy to think about clothes. 

I am too fat. 

So-and-so can, but I can’t. 


Are they not trivial, compared with the 

True, but it helps the highest mission. 

It is not easy to be conspicuously elegant. 
Nothing is so glaring as the latest novelty. 

Use plain seamstresses till demand creates sup¬ 
ply. * 

It is never too late to learn. 

Cultivate taste. 

It is not as wasteful of vitality as is con¬ 
ventional dress. 

Study to look your best. Who can do more ? 
None should do less. 

Be noticeably beautiful, and thus reward at¬ 
tention. 

You have large muscles. If they are weak 
from disease, train them. 

By every healthful means attain or simulate 
ideal firmness. 

You must, you do. Shall your thought be 
intelligent ? 

Reduce and conceal it; do not force it upon 
public notice in a conventional gown. 

Don’t be cowardly. Nothing is gained with¬ 
out cost.** 


Mrs. Steele was one of the early dress reform thinkers and experimen¬ 
ters, and Mrs. Adams a painter, who sacrificed two or three years from her 
painting to study and experiment upon dress as an art. Most of the points 
insisted upon as important in this book, and in the lectures on the subject, 
are now embodied, or are rapidly becoming embodied, in modern life, 
dressing, and custom. 


EXPRESSION OR DRAMATIC EFFECTS 

A S in morals, so in beauty; no man can be good alone; all around him 
grow good, or he grows bad. It is the ethical law of life; it is the 
esthetical law of art; it is the law of beauty. 

Nothing can be very beautiful save in relation to other beauties. How 
long would you be content to be shut up alone with a few rubies ? But put 
the rubies on a pink and white hand, held near a flushed cheek, not far 
from a red lip, and you are content for long. You kiss the sweet hand,— 
maybe the lip. The ruby has come into relation with its kin in her cheek; 
given itself for her and you. It is no more a mere stone; it is beauty, 
it is life. A flower or a bunch of garnets might have the same experience. 

Color rightly used produces decorative beauty. Decorative beauty 
rightly *■ adjusted to life produces dramatic effect. A failure in attaining 
dramatic effect would result in what we are accustomed to call theatrical. 
Dramatic effect is a true exhibition of something or somebody. It is 
oratorical, it speaks to somebody, of some quality. The dramatic effect 
of a red dress is something apart from its decorative effect. It suggests 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


r 90 



cheerfulness, courage. The dramatic effect of white alone is a suggestion 
of cleanliness, coolness; and if worn in combination with suggestive soft 
folds, and on suitable occasion, may suggest purity, truth, and simplicity 
of soul; or it may be merely negligee in its expression. White worn for 
its dramatic effect in suggesting cleanness, is perhaps the most universal 
and the lowest form of beauty, in dress. It looks clean. Why, of course 
your clothes are clean! A white tablecloth looks clean,— all 
tablecloths are clean,—it is a matter of course in a 
W decent house, the fact does not need emphasizing. 
The white of your dress is a thing of changeable de¬ 
gree, your eyeballs and teeth are not. Happiness and 
good health may keep the whites of your eyes clear 
and beautiful in tone. Then again, sorrow and sickness 
may spoil that tone. With the best and most expensive 
service of the modern dentist in polishing your teeth — and 
no money is better spent — you cannot always be sure of their 
being whiter than your laundress’s chemicals will make your 
white dress. 

I remember a very celebrated white room in an artist’s house in 
London, a famous white dining-room. But there was no white in it. 

They were all make-believe whites. Placed beside the white of 
your linen collar or lawn dress, they would have appeared gray or green 
or blue or ivory or cream or ecru; and the room was known in two 
continents as (( The Famous White Dining-room. w 

It is the opinion of the learned that the wearing of black at all, 
and the wearing of mourning most of all, is unhygienic. The body suffers 
from the obstruction of light. Remember the sickly look of those who 
work in mines, and of the plants That grow in cellars. Light is a necessity 
to health. But mourning as a dramatic expression is a convenience. It is 
a signal respected by all. To be able to hide a tearful face under a dark; 
veil is often a comfort and a protection. As a conventionalization, mourning 
is also a convenience. It relieves from social obligations that suddenly 
become irksome. But neither is this all good, for the necessity of being 
cheerful and self-contained is sometimes a help, sometimes saving the 
cost of an hysterical flood of tears. An invitation that must be accepted 
may save one a lonely day of despair. If it were customary to fight 
grief, and to hide it, rather than to acknowledge, and to yield to it, 
doubtless the grief-stricken would be better off. 

But granting that there are some advantages in wearing mourning, when 
grief is too new to be mastered by will, forgotten in duty, or risen above 
in resignation, surely the time when life has begun to master grief, is a 
time when color, diversions, amusements, physical exercise, all help toward 
getting a new hold on life. Why not make second mourning color, rather 
than mere absence of cripe? It is easier to be cheerful in colored clothes; 
it is easier to be energetic in colored clothes, and so to get the benefit 
of oxygen in all ways. Black because of its tendency to subordinate detail 
and to enhance outline, thus giving style, is always popular. And black does 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


IOI 


have great style. It sacrifices sentiment, subordinates sensuous beauty, 
and emphasizes line. The dramatic value of this latter can hardly be 
overrated. But should sentiment be sacrificed ? That depends upon what 
the sentiment is — whether selfish or altruistic, whether noble pride or 
self-vanity, whether joy and love, or grief and melancholy and despair. 
Black emphasizes outline, but not bulk. Bulk is often vulgar; but bulk 
is sometimes, beautiful. In the paintings of Titian, and other great 
artists, it is the sensuousness of bulk, not the style of outline, that gives 
charm. In the commonplace,, round lines of youth, it is the sensuous 
beauty of bulk and color that are fascinating; and is not youth always 
tascinating ? Is not youth always sought ? 

On board ship, two artists once discussed the athletic beauty of a 
young man who walked the deck, up and down, before them for several 
days. Had either been a sculptor he would have been glad of the man as a 
model, but being artists and not sculptors, that beautiful figure was remem¬ 
bered for life. The man was dressed in a summer suit of thin, light gray 
wool. As he stood against the background of white deck, or gray sail, or sum¬ 
mer sky, he had neither marked outline nor voluptuous bulk. He had beau¬ 
tiful limbs that moved in a play of grace suggesting whole poems of manly 
health and courage and thought and love. He was a nineteenth-century 
Greek. In the latter days of the voyage, when the sea was still, and every¬ 
body opened his trunk to get out his land clothes, he appeared one day 
on deck in a black suit, with the proper collar and cuffs, and other badges 
of his station. The artists looked at each other aghast and remembered 
his beauty. Where was it gone ? He was a mere silhouette now, hard, 
uninteresting, and commonplace. 

Almost every article of dress has some dramatic expression. The cane 
is the badge of leisure. Nowadays it is used by men of all classes, on 
their leisure days or vacations. In the case of a man of leisure, of course 
it is well known that the cane supplanted the habit of the sword, and be¬ 
came a badge of the leisure class. It is now a badge of the leisure hours. 
A man will carry a cane one day and leave it at home another. 

The top hat, when much worn, is a dramatic expression of the age or 
mood of the country. It expresses leisure for thoughts about elegance; 
it expresses a desire for style; it is used instinctively, maybe, to counter¬ 
balance the ugly trouser legs; it has been most worn in England where 
trousers were ugliest. In France, Italy, and America there has been a 
much greater tendency to cut the legs of trousers so as to hint at a 
leg inside. One of the advantages of men’s evening dress is that, in so far 
as black dress can do so, its shape also hints at a man inside of the clothes. 
Daytime coats and vests are more obscuring. Bungling daytime dress, and 
the exaggerated outline of black evening dress, have done what they could 
to obscure beauty, but the blessed bicycle, the return of horse-back riding, 
the coming in of golf and tennis, have re-discovered a muscular beauty that 
Michelangelo himself could not have discerned in modern life a few years ago. 

Since men’s feet now set the fashion for those of women in the matter 
of street wear, and their collars and ties for working clothes; since the 


DRESS AS A FINE ART 


1 92 

English boy has lent his beautiful Eton jacket, the modern Greek his 
zouave, the Rough Rider his hat — possibly men will one day borrow color 
from us, at least for evening dress, and so redeem, from its hiding under 
a mere outline of black, the beautiful masculine figure. 

When both men and women dress according to occupation, all of these 
needs will naturally fall into place. Life and the evolution of dress, to¬ 
gether with the advance of decorative art, will do what ignorant but well- 
meaning reform neither could nor should. 

One of the most noticeable things in French society is the <( beauty of 
dress worn by French women,® but the next observation is less compli¬ 
mentary to the intelligence of the nation. It is, that of all peoples, the 
French women have least regard to the becomingness of their costumes. 
The lack of subordination of the decoration to the thing decorated is 
the weakest point in French art, either the art of dress or decorative art 
in general. This is the point on which America leads all countries. An 
American woman in a Paris dress is far more likely to be so dressed as 
to heighten her own beauty than is a French woman. A French woman 
attains style and stops there. 

The leading French dressmakers prefer for two reasons to work for Ameri¬ 
cans rather than for the French. One reason is the American habit of lavish 
expenditure, and the other is that they also know that <( she wears her clothes 
better. ® 

This seems to me to be a crucial point in good dressing. It is not enough 
that a dress is stylish, or even fashionable. The woman must be emphasized, 
in character, color, form, — in every way helped by her dress, not hindered by 
it; and especially is this true in the expression and heightening of character. 
Some women require oppositions to express them. The dashiness of their ap¬ 
pearance is their charm and best quality. It would be useless and foolish to 
attempt to subordinate this quality by more quiet dressing. Let each woman 
be herself and dress to loQk like herself. And how often do we hear the ex¬ 
pression— apropos of a dress or a hat — (< That does not look like you, Mrs. 
So-and-so ! w Nor is it worth while for the dove-like creature to undertake 
to please some member of the family by trying to be more dashing. 
Swaggering red bows, lumbering plaids, mannish hats and ties, are all of 
no avail. 

Occasionally one sees a woman in whom style, chic, clashing outlines, ex¬ 
travagant coquetries of bow, or belt, or buckle, or band, things bizarre, or 
fanciful, centralize all eyes upon her, and leave the daintier women crowded 
into a seemingly sentimental jumble. 

Expression of the individual, and suitability to the moment, constitute 
the final test of good dressing. On some occasions, convenience must be 
foremost, on other occasions, beauty, but let it always be the beauty of the 
man, woman, or child that is clothed, not the mere beauty of clothes. 
Without attention to this psychological point of view, no amount of good 
decorative effect would make social life other than a panoramic picture, 
gliding grandly before the eyes — leaving all hearts unsympathetic, and all 
souls unrelated. 


THE SYMBOLS OF PRECIOUS STONES 


193 


The two-foot looking-glass of the average old-time bedroom has given 
place to the long mirror or the threefold dressing-glass. Those who have ad¬ 
mired the line and drapery, the general decorative effect of poetic and dra¬ 
matic dress, in the palatial spaces of the modern home, and on the stages of 
those great theaters where tinsel and trumpery have so far given place 
to artistic suitability, now regard the generalizations in a costume as impor¬ 
tant. Madame must see the back of her head, the curve and swing of her 
train, the angle of her poise. She is no longer content to see how her face 
looks, and satisfied if a ring or a curl sets off becomingly the color or line of 
her cheek. Women think more broadly about dress. Dress is no longer 
merely fixing yourself; dress is architecture. 


THE SYMBOLS OF PRECIOUS STONES 


• w A gold-adorned and pillared temple, round, 

Whose walls were hung with rich and precious things, 

Worthy to be the ransom of great kings.” 

— William Morris. 

B y the Ancients, the formation of gems was attributed to the gods. 
The cradle of the infant Jupiter was rocked by a beautiful 
youth, whom the gods, in commemoration of so honorable a 
service, changed to a diamond. An imprisoned glowworm became 
the emerald. The amethyst was once a nymph beloved of Bacchus. 
The lapis lazuli was formed from the dying cry of a tortured Indian 
giant; a malignant passion formed its home in the heart of the 
onyx; while amber was created from the tears shed by the 
sister of Phaethon because of the latter’s unhappy fate. 

There are many tales, varied and interesting, showing 
the wonderful influence that these rare bits of mineral 
have wielded over the mind of man. Elaborate 
descriptions of their use in ancient times for 
religious purposes, and for personal adornment,] 
have been found. Fifteen hundred years before’ 

Christ, to symbolize each of the Jewish tribes, twelve 
precious stones were set in the breastplate of the priest who was 
to minister before the sacred altar erected by the children of Israel. 

(< Thou shalt set it in settings of stones; the first row shall be of sardius, 
a topaz, and a carbuncle, this shall be the first row. 

<( And the second shall be an emerald, a sapphire, and a diamond. 

<( And the third row a figure, an agate, and an amethyst. 

(< And. the fourth row a beryl and an onyx and a jasper; they shall be 
set in gold in their inclosing.® 

<( And the stones were according to the names of the children of Israel, 
like the engraving of a signet, every one with his name, according to the 
twelve tribes. w 

1—13 




194 


THE SYMBOLS OF PRECIOUS STONES 


Tradition among the Rabbis would have us believe that Moses 
engraved the stones of the breastplate with the blood of the worm 
called (< Samir,by some interpreters translated adamas (diamond) < 
The story of the Holy Grail has been adopted as the basis of nu¬ 
merous romances and poems. According to this legend, the Holy 
Grail was a cup made of a single large emerald, which was detached 
from the crown of Satan when he fell from heaven. The cup was used 
at the last supper, and afterward was given to Joseph of Arimathea, 
who collected within it the blood of Christ as he expired upon the cross. 
The grail being lost, it was the great object of the knights of 
Jthe Middle Ages to find it; but none was qualified for 
This task unless pure in heart and deed. The Crusaders, 
r in the tenth century, at the capture of Caesarea, found what 
they believed to be the Holy Grail; this object is now pre¬ 
served in the Cathedral of San Lorenzo, Genoa. 

Of the famous <( black stone of the Kaaba—a sacred 
'shrine of Mecca — many legends are related. This stone 
^?was popularly supposed to have fallen to the earth 
from paradise, upon the advent of Adam, and it was 
an object of reverence long before the time of Ma¬ 
homet. The great Arabian placed the stone on a 
corner of the shrine, to be kissed by pilgrims. When 
first placed in the Kaaba, it was a jacinth of <( dazzling 
whiteness, J> but it became gradually blackened by the contact of lips. 
The Shah of Persia is reported to be the owner of two diamonds, 
one of which renders him invincible, the other being possessed of the 
power to force secrets from his enemies. 

In olden times, followers of most religious beliefs embellished their 
place's of worship with rare and precious gems. Precious stones also 
served to adorn the tombs and shrines of departed friends, and they 
have been included in all nations in the decorative scheme of the 
future abode of the righteous. The paradise of the Chinese is 
adorned with gold and precious stones. The Moslem pictures in imag¬ 
ination the rivers of heaven flowing over amber, sapphire, and jacinth. 
The prayer of Tobias speaks the universal dream of the Jewish 
nation: (< She shall be built of emeralds, sapphires and all precious 
stones, her walls and battlements of fine gold, and the streets shall be 
paved with carbuncle, beryl and stones of Ophir. w The Christian, 
surpassing in his dreams of paradise those of Buddha, Moslem, or Jew, 
pictures the splendor of the Holy City, whose walls are of the rarest 
jewels and whose gates are of pearl. 

Tradition would have us believe that to these treasures of the earth 
were attributed properties antidotal for most of the ills of life. A 




THE SYMBOLS OP PRECIOUS STONES 


T 95 


ruby owned by King Solomon was said to reveal to him all he desired 
to know, in heaven or upon earth, and gave him power over demons. 
One famous stone, the <( Dracomus,” which was stolen from the head 
of a dragon, was believed, like the toadstone, to absorb all poison 
from the system of one who touched it. Another stone, equally well 
known, was derived from the brain of an Arabian monster, and was 
considered a charm against plague and pestilence. It was called the 
Bya stone. The opal for years has been considered an ill-omened gem 
— the harbinger of evil to all who possessed it. Even the diamond 
was valued by the Romans only for its supernatural virtues, for it 
was supposed by them to protect the wearer from poison, insanity, and 
evil dreams. Yet, at one period it was considered the most deadly of 
poisons. Cellini, the famous Italian worker in gold and silver, re¬ 
lates how an enemy would have killed him by means of a solution 
containing pulverized diamond, had not the chemist, employed to re¬ 
duce the gem to powder, substituted for it a bit of beryl. 

Onyx, when worn alone, was said to expose its wearer to danger 
from evil spirits. The beryl was often employed in certain rites 
practised in witchcraft, and was said to possess the power to reveal 
secrets of both the past and the future. A ruby was said to change 
color when the wearer was threatened with danger. It was worn, 
too, as an amulet, to protect the wearer from poison, sadness, and 
evil thoughts. The sapphire was said to be an antidote for madness, 
and was able to free the possessor from enchantment. 


BIRTH-STONES 

< * . • * * . i 

A Diamond is the purest form of carbon, the chief element of coal, 
— which we often hear spoken of, and not inappropriately, as (< black 
diamonds. ® Hence many scientists have tried to discover a process of 
refinement for changing coal to diamonds. As yet, however, only 
very small stones have been produced in this way, and these at an 
expense exceeding the cost of those found in a pure state. The dia¬ 
mond is sometimes called the emblem of innocence; but more gener¬ 
ally it is symbolic of pride. It is the birth-stone of one born in the 
month of April. 

The Ruby, next in value to the diamond, is a gem of beautiful 
rose red, the darkness of the shade varying slightly in different stones. 
It seems to have been considered in Bible times as the most precious 
of stones. Job said: (< The price of wisdom is above rubies; * and 
Solomon set the value of a virtuous woman <( far above rubies. ® It 
is said to be the emblem of a noble nature, imparting the courage 


I 06 


THE SYMBOLS OF PRECIOUS STONES 




for great achievement, and possessing power to bring contentment 
to its owner. It is the appropriate jewel for one whose birthday is 
in the month of July. 

The Sapphire and the Pearl are sometimes ranked with the ruby, 
next to the diamond, and in any case, are second to no others. Job, 
in one of his wonderful references to the treasures of the globe, says: 
(< The stones of the earth are precious sapphires, 0 while in Solomon’s 
greatest- tribute to wisdom, he says: (< Coral and pearls cannot be com¬ 
pared to it. 0 The sapphire is a gem of a beautiful deep blue; while 
the pearl is well known for its exquisite translucent whiteness. The 
great divine, Henry Ward Beecher, was passionately fond of jewels, 
especially of fine sapphires, which he declared brought him nearer to 
heaven than did any other sight. The sapphire is the birth-stone of 
those born in September. 

The Pearl differs from all other gems in coming 
from the depths of the ocean instead of being 


Jp)found in the earth. It is not a mineral, as 


* are the other precious stones, but is an animal 
product or growth found in the shells of mollusks. 
A grain of sand, or small particle of some 
other foreign matter, finds its way between the 
> parts of the shell of an oyster or mussel. This 
object the little occupant of the shell covers with 
- a succession of layers, of the same substance as that 
' „ which constitutes the inner lining of his shell. The 
^result is that the grain of sand is transformed into 
the beautiful object which we call a pearl. The 
Kingdom of Heaven is likened by the Great 
Teacher to a <( pearl of great price, 0 for the pos¬ 
session of which a man would sell all that he had. The pearl signifies 
innocence and modesty, though it has no place in the birthday list. 
Perhaps it was thought that the beautiful lesson the pearl teaches 
should not be the peculiar property of the children of any one month. 

The Garnet, a dark red stone, is the talisman for one born in Janu¬ 
ary; it denotes constancy and helps the wearer to be faithful in all 
engagements. The Opal is a translucent gem reflecting a great variety 
of beautiful hues; it is one of the most fascinating of stones, and has 
had great popularity of late, though it was once thought to bring 
bad luck to the wearer. It signifies faith and hope, and in 
our calendar of gems, brings a wealth of pure thoughts to the 
October child. 

The Turquoise, a jewel of a peculiar arid delicate shade of blue, 
is a favorite among the less expensive stones. It is an emblem of 



THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 


197 


prosperity, and is said to bring- success to the owner who was born 
in the last month of the year. The Amethyst is a beautiful gem of 
varying shades of violet. Its significance is sincerity, and it is sup¬ 
posed to bring to one born in February a birthday dower of peace 
of mind. The Bloodstone, the March birthday gem, is dark green in 
hue, mottled with red spots resembling drops of blood. It indicates 
courage. 

The Emerald, a jewel of a bright green color, is very much ad¬ 
mired, and its name has come to be a synonym of that hue. Hence, 
from the verdant luxuriance of its vegetation, Ireland is called the 
<( Emerald Isle.^ To one born in May, the emerald is a mascot for 
success in life. The Topaz is the birthday stone of November; it 
signifies fidelity. The Sardonyx is the emblem of conjugal felicity, 
and belongs to August. The Agate is the stone of June, and means 
health and long life. Jet signifies sad remembrance, and hence is 
worn most with mourning garments. The Onyx is the symbol of 
reciprocal love. 


THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 


“ To him who in the love of nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, 

She speaks a various language.® 

— Bryant. 


(< An exquisite invention this, 

Worthy of Love’s most honeyed kiss — 
This art of writing billet-doux 
In buds, and odors, and bright hues ! ® 

— Leigh Hunt. 


F lowers have a language that is so beautiful, so full, so intricate, 
and yet so distinctly their own, that almost from the beginning 
of creation, man has sought to interpret it. Theirs is a uni¬ 
versal speech, addressed alike to all mankind — to the rich and 
the poor, to the young and the old, to the living and the dead. 
The little child is attracted by the beauty of the commonest wild 
flowers, and, responding to a natural impulse of childish affection, 
gathers them, and carries them to his mother; thus unconsciously 
helping to fulfill one of the divine purposes of their creator. 

The lover can find no more eloquent messenger to the object of 
his adoration than the flowers. The devotee covers with his offering 
of choicest blossoms the altar dedicated to the God he worships. The 
bereaved, in sad remembrance, strews the last gift of flowers upon 
the grave of his loved one. 


i<;8 


THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 



Every flower holds in its heart a secret which, imparted, becomes 
a lesson, and an inspiration to enrich our lives, and to attune our 
souls to Nature’s voices. They stand as symbols both of our hopes 
and our disappointments —our happy hours and our bitter moments. 

The Ancients did not despise the silent lesson ' taught by the 
flowers. In Bible lore, we read of the Olive, which stood for Peace; 
of the Corn, symbolic of Plenty; the Willow, of Mourning; the Cedar, 
of Strength; the Lily, of Purity. The art-loving Greeks gave to 
flowers a human interest, and (< linked legend of man’s love, or woe, 
or triumph, to each blossom. ® 

In later years, the education of the society belle or beau was not 
considered complete without a knowledge of the language of flowers. 

Love’s offering often came in the form of a nosegay, each 
y,^\ blossom of which conveyed some special meaning. By 
floral linguists, a bouquet of this sort was as easily 
read as was a billet-doux , for almost every flower was 
made the symbol of some attribute or idea. The 
introduction of this flower language into Europe 
was through the gifted Lady Mary Wortley 
Montagu, who brought it from the East in 
order to teach her countrywomen how a letter 
of passion, friendship, civility, or even of news, 
might be prepared without even inking one’s 
fingers. Lady Montagu claimed that there ex¬ 
isted no sentiment or emotion that was not possible of expression 
through the gentle speech of flowers. From time immemorial, a 
Rose has signified Love. If a lover would declare awakening af¬ 
fection, he presented to the fair one a rosebud just beginning to 
open. If the lady accepted, and wore the flower, she was supposed 
to favor her lover’s suit. , 

Then there was <( Rosemary, that’s for remembrance, ® and (< Pansies 
— that’s for thoughts.® The word Pansy comes from the French 
Pensee — <( thought. >} Laurel is universally regarded as the symbol of 
Fame; the Olive signifies Peace. Flowering Almond means Hope. 
Tradition tells us that when the Greek hero, Demophon, was returning 
from the siege of Troy, he was wrecked on the shores of Thrace. 
While there, he gained the love of the King’s daughter, who, on the 
departure of the Greek for his home, promised to be faithful until he 
should return to marry her. But Demophon did not return to Thrace, 
and the maiden pined away and died. Through pity, the gods are 
said to have changed her to a Flowering Almond. 

There are interesting legends connected with the origin of cer¬ 
tain flowers. One fable relates that Flora, grieving at the loss of a 



THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 


1 99 


favorite, entreated the gods to change her to a flower that would 
reign as queen over all others. To please her, all the gods took part 
in creating such a flower, and thus was the Rose formed. 

Another myth concerns Narcissus, the beautiful son of Cephisus. 
Though beloved by all of the Grecian nymphs, Narcissus treated them 
with contemptuous indifference; but having accidentally seen his own 
image reflected in a stream, he became so enamored of it that he 
languished until he died. The gods, through compassion, changed 
him to the flower that still bears his name. 

Of the Sunflower, we are told that Clytie, a daughter of Oceanus, 
following always the course of the Sun god through the heavens, was 
transformed into a Sunflower. 

The Daisy, it is said, is so called because it is the “day’s eye,” 
opening its petals when the day begins, and closing them when daylight 
ends. But this is true only of the little English daisy, from which the 
larger ones take their name. 

In the arbitrary flower code, the Mandrake flower signifies Horror, 
and thinking of that, one can imagine its blossoms to be little white 
waxen faces, transfixed with fear, hiding beneath the huge leaves. 

The beautiful rival of the <( Queen of the garden,” the Rose Oleander, 
if presented to one as a gift, means <( Beware.” 

The Nettle, for no far-fetched reason, is said to signify cruelty or 
ingratitude; the Blue Lobelia stands for Hatred, and the cheerful 
Marigold, oddly enough, is symbolic of Chagrin. 

The honest, bright-faced Dandelion is charged with meaning Co¬ 
quetry, probably because the seed-ball, like the daisy flower, is fre¬ 
quently called into service for settling the vexed question as to 
whether or not the loved object loves in return. 

According to Milton, the Amaranth, or Everlasting, is the “ Immor¬ 
tal flower that once in Paradise, hard by the tree of life, began to 
bloom”; hence it means undying, or never-fading. 

The Fringed Gentian means Heavenly Hope. 

The fragrant Petunia bears the message, (< Your presence soothes 
me ”; while the Mignonette gives the frank information, (( Your good 
qualities surpass your charms. ” 

The Heliotrope means Devotion, or <( I turn to Thee.” 

The Red Clover, with its wholesome sweetness, is the symbol of 
Industry, while the hardy Nasturtium is the emblem of Patriotism. 

The delicate Trailing Arbutus peers from the rough, brown leaves 
with the sweet words, “ Thee, only, do I love.” 

Many peoples have chosen some flower as their national emblem, 
and the legends and traditions connected with these national flowers 
are known the world over. 


200 


THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 


The Rose has been the national emblem of England since the fif¬ 
teenth century., when Henry VII., of the House of Lancaster, put a 
stop to the famous <( Wars of the Roses ® by marrying Elizabeth of 
York. There is a pretty tale connected with the ending of this con¬ 
flict: A rose bush in Millstone, .which had always produced both red 
and white roses, suddenly began to put out roses of mingled red and 
white. Whether the tale be true or not, there grows a rose in Eng¬ 
land whose petals are intermingled white and red, and which bears 
the name of the (< York and Lancaster ® rose. 

The following story is told concerning the adoption of the thistle 
as the national emblem of Scotland. Many years ago the Danes made 
war upon the Scots. One night while the Scottish camp was sleep¬ 
ing, the enemy approached through the darkness and would have suc¬ 
cessfully attacked the sleepers had not a Danish soldier stepped with 
his bare foot upon a thistle. The cry that he could not restrain 
awakened the Scots, who sprang to their arms, fell upon their enemies 
and routed them completely. 

The traditional history of Ireland’s emblem, the Shamrock, is no 
less interesting. Saint Patrick, Ireland’s patron saint, is said to have 
used the Shamrock to illustrate the mystery of the Holy Trinity; and 
for this reason, it became the emblem of the Irish nation. In olden 
times, the Irish wore sprigs of Shamrock, which were believed to 
charm away the witches, evil spirits, and snakes. 

The Lily of France is the purple Iris. It received its name from 
King Louis VII., who chose it for his badge when he set out on his 
crusade to the Holy Land. Time has changed its original name Fleur- 
de-Louis to Fleur-de-lis , by which name we now know the beauti¬ 
ful Iris. It is used on the arms of France, and in many royal 
decorations. During the (< Reign of Terror }> people were forbidden, 
on pain of death, to wear the emblem, because it was the badge of 
royalty. 

There is an old story connected with the Mexican coat of arms,— 
which consists of an eagle, resting upon a cactus stem, and holding 
a serpent in his beak,— to the effect that many years ago, when the 
Aztecs or ancient Mexicans were looking for a place in which to 
dwell, a seer told them they should continue to wander about until 
they came to a spot where an eagle would be found perched upon a 
rock, and on that spot they should build their city. When the wan¬ 
derers came to Lake Tezcuco, they saw an eagle seated upon a branch 
of uspal cactus, which grew in the crevice of a rock, and in his beak 
he held a serpent. The name of the city the Aztecs built was after¬ 
ward called Mexico, and the uspal cactus became the national flower 
of the Mexicans. 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


20 1 


The Sacred Lily, or Lotus, of Egypt, was used by the ancient 
Egyptians in their offerings to the gods, and its beautiful form was. 
painted and carved upon their temples, and in the royal palaces. It 
was also regarded as a symbol of life, and was honored by all Egyp¬ 
tians, though only those of upper Egypt took it for their emblem. 

Chrysanthemum means (< Golden Flower, w and this is the national em¬ 
blem of Japan. In that country, a day is set apart each year for the 
<( Festival of Chrysanthemums. }> The (< Golden Flower^ is embroidered 
on flags and banners, and painted on all important papers. 

The Greeks chose the modest Violet for their emblem, and it bore 
for many years the name of <( Badge of Athens. w Ion is the Greek 
name of violet, and the Greek Ion was supposed to be a talisman 
against evil. A Greek myth relates that Io, on being- changed by 
Jupiter into a heifer, lived upon violets alone. 

Geoffrey, a French nobleman who married Maud of England, chose 
the humble Broom Flower as his emblem. His son became Henry 
II. of England, and the line of kings from Henry II. to Richard III. 
were known as the Plantagenet kings. The Broom Flower was some¬ 
times called by the Latin word Plant a gencsta , and was always worn by 
the Plantagenet kings as their emblem. 


HOME STUDY OF ART 



W hile it is desirable to secure the best instruction in any chosen 
line of study, it is unwise to abandon all hope of achievement 
in such direction when good instruction is not attainable. There 
are to-day in this country thousands of young men and women 
who are ambitious to take up, professionally, some branch 
of art, but who, living in places remote from the larger 
cities, and being without the requisite means to leave 
home to study, are struggling alone, to reach the goal 
of their ambition, or wasting their youth in dreams 
of future opportunity which may never be realized. 

There is a generally prevalent idea that nothing can 
be accomplished in art work unless the student is able 
to go to New York, or, perhaps, even to Paris, for 
instruction. This, however, is not so. If the 
student starts in the right way— understanding sc 
thing of the essentials of good drawing and color-work 
— there is no reason why he should not make definite 
and practical progress, without the assistance of a teacher. 

The first requisites are to know how to begin and to be willing to work. 
And the first fact to be fixed in the mind, so firmly that nothing can 


202 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


displace it, is that good draughtsmanship is the foundation of good 
painting, of good designing, of good illustration. Without skill in 
drawing it is useless to hope for success in any branch of pictorial art. 
Even the copyist will reproduce the work of other men more success- 
fully if he has himself learned to draw. 

If, then, you are ambitious to become an artist, determine that you 
will give your first attention to drawing — that you will not yield to the 
temptation of paints and brushes until you know how to handle your 
pencil and charcoal. 

For practical study without instruction, it is well, if possible, to es¬ 
tablish a class of three or more members. If all are earnest workers, 
even though not possessed of equal talent, better results will be achieved 
than are likely to come from solitary study. The student who works 
entirely alone is deprived of the constant incentive to further effort 
which conies from seeing the work and the working methods of others. 
But if he is compelled by circumstances to study by himself, he will find 
the following suggestions for class work applicable to his own needs. 

Assuming that several students have agreed to form a class for the 
purpose of art study, the next step is to secure a workshop. This may 
be in any large apartment having a good north light. The empty loft of 
a barn has been converted, with slight alterations, into a delightful 
studio; or some member of the class may be able to give for its use an 
attic or other apartment in his home. But where it is possible, it is best 
for the members to club together to rent a suitable room in some business 
building of the town or village. This studio should be lighted either by 
skylight or by north windows. In no case should the light fall upon the 
model from more than one direction. If there is a window instead of a 
skylight, the lower half of it should be shaded, permitting the light to 
enter only from above. 

For the work, each student will need an easel, a drawing board, char¬ 
coal, paper, and thumb tacks. Charcoal paper comes, in large sheets and 
if bought by the dozen, or in' larger quantity, will be less expensive. 
The drawing board should be about i8x 24 inches in size; the thumb tacks 
are used to fasten the paper to the board. Charcoal can be bought by 
the box. It is the best medium for drawing purposes, as it can easily be 
brushed off when a mistake is made. In addition to these articles, a 
bottle of fixative and an atomizer will be needed. These are for (( fixing ® 
a finished drawing so that the charcoal will not rub off. An old hand¬ 
kerchief or a piece of soft chamois skin is used for dusting out mistakes. 
A supply of geometrical objects, in white wood, should be purchased, 
and these, with a small table or two for the arrangement of studies, com¬ 
plete the outfit of the studio. Later on, when the students have advanced 
to drawing from life, a platform about eighteen inches in height, and 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


203 


several pieces,of drapery of different texture and color to serve as back¬ 
grounds will be required. If there is no shop at hand for the sale of art 
materials, write to a dealer in some near-by town, sending a list of your 
requirements, and asking for information as to prices. 

For a beginning, let the subject be a wooden cube or a vase. The 
easels should be so placed that the light will not cast a shadow of the 
student’s hand upon the drawing paper; and they should be not more 
than five or six feet from the object to be drawn. Let us suppose that 
the latter consists of a vase, as shown in the cut. You are to consider 
the study first as to outline and general proportions. It is best to start 



with a few construction lines. Place upon your paper a straight perpen¬ 
dicular line of about the height of the vase, or of whatever height you 
wish to make your drawing of the vase. You must now learn to take 
measurements by means of your charcoal. This process is a little diffi- 
cult to explain clearly, but by experiment, the idea is readily grasped. 
You wish, for instance, to get the correct width of your vase at its 
widest point, as compared with the height: Hold your charcoal stick at 
arm’s length toward the subject; close one eye, and move your thumb 
along the stick until it measures upon the latter the space filled by the 
height of the object. Now, keeping the arm steadily at length, turn the 
charcoal to a horizontal position so that it crosses the vase at the desired 
point. Your thumb is still marking the first measurement upon the char¬ 
coal and you are able to judge as to the relative proportion of the width. 
To your surprise, you find that the vase is just twice as high as it is wide. 
This gives you something tangible to start with. The next step is to 
draw.a horizontal construction line across the perpendicular line which 
represents the height of the vase. This is a simple matter if you know 
just where the horizontal line should cross the perpendicular. You must 
be careful not to place it too low, for the widest part of the object is near 
the top — just how near is what you want to learn. Hold your charcoal 
at arm’s length again and note with your thumb the space filled by that 
part of the vase lying between the top and its widest part. Then lower 
the charcoal carefully from point to point and find how many times this 
space will go into the entire height of the vase. You will perhaps find 
that from the top of the vase to the widest point the space is one-fourth of 
the entire height. Measuring with the eye, you must then divide the 















2 04 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


perpendicular line on your paper, by light touches of the charcoal, into 
four parts. At the upper point is the place of intersection for the first 
horizontal line. (Fig. i.) This gives a general idea of the process of 
measuring. Apply the same rules in securing the width of the base, 
neck, and top of the vase, comparing each part with other parts, and 
in that way finding the general proportions. 

The next step is to connect the construction lines, as shown in fig¬ 
ure II, paying no attention to the curves until the shape and proportions 
are indicated in straight lines. After this is done, draw the curves (Fig. 
3.) and gently brush away the construction lines, which should have been 
made with a light touch. It will be well to practise drawing in this 
way for some time before attempting to model. By modeling is meant 
putting in the shading. 

Change the subject frequently and arrange groups of two or more 
articles. The ruler or a lead pencil is a great aid in measuring when 
you wish to determine the relative proportion of objects. - A straight 
edge held at different angles across the study shows which points are 
in line, one with another, or in what degree they vary — falling inside 
or outside of a given line. 

When ready to begin modeling look carefully at your study and 
endeavor to see it in broad masses of light and shade, as in figure IV. 
Partly close your eyes and these masses become more apparent — the 
delicate gradations of shade being lost. Draw a light line indicating as 
nearly as possible the shape of the shadows as you see them, and then 
put them in with your charcoal, in an even tone. This is called <( block- 
ing, ® and it is an important step' not only in the work of beginners but 
in that of experienced artists. It is advisable to draw in this way for 
some time before attempting the details of finishing. 

When skill has been acquired in <( blocking in y) a drawing, the next 
step is to study the modeling in its finer expression — find the highest 
light on your model, and the deepest shade, and try to secure the relative 
value of all the intermediate shadows. (Fig. 5.) Use your charcoal as 
you would a pencil or crayon, working only with the point and avoiding 
the use of the paper <( stumps w which are made for rubbing the char¬ 
coal into the paper. With the acquirement of skill in handling this 
medium, the artist learns how to use his thumb and fingers for such 
blending as may be needed and for securing certain artistic effects. 

After a certain facility in drawing from inanimate objects has been 

0 

acquired, it will be well to work from the living model. Charcoal, 
water color, oil, or pen and ink, may be used; and where it is desirable 
to save the expense of hiring models, the students should pose in turn 
for the class. For life work, a platform is required that will elevate 
the model from twelve to eighteen inches above the level of the floor. 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


205 



In posing* the model, it is advisable to select only simple positions, as 
it is difficult to hold a pose which puts too much strain upon any of the 
muscles. In the art school classes, a model usually poses from twenty 
to forty-five minutes without resting; five minutes 
of relaxation is then allowed, after which the pose 
is resumed. One position is kept during- a week. 

Students who are ambitious to become illustra¬ 
tors should, in addition to their other work, draw 
with pen and ink from the model. For this pur 
pose, a smooth, hard-finished paper is required. 

Many artists prefer Bristol board, but there arc 
other papers equally good ; for instance, the smooth- 
finished Steinbach papers. A bottle of Windsor 
and Newton’s India ink and a supply of ordinary 
fine-pointed writing pens are also needed. The 
pens made especially for drawing do not differ 
particularly from the writing pens, and will be o. 
no especial use to the beginner. In making a pen 
and ink drawing, follow the same general rules that are '%<•' 
given for charcoal drawing. Study carefully the propor- y 
tions and values, and practise with your pen to secure the stroke that 
best expresses what you see. Study also the subject of composition; 
to be able to draw skilfully from the model is but half the battle; you 
must learn to group your figures, to give to them the necessary setting. 
A careful examination of the work of the best illustrators, appearing 
each month in the leading magazines, is very helpful; but such work 
should not be copied; it is best to evolve a style of your own; and this 
will come with increased skill in the handling of your pen. The editors 
of illustrated publications are always willing to examine drawings with 
a view to their purchase. In sending drawings to a publisher be sure, 
first of all, that your work is suitable for the publication in question. 
This point can easily be decided by an intelligent examination of the 
magazine or paper. Never roll a drawing for mailing, but send it flat. 
No editor will take the trouble to examine a rolled drawing. Always 
send sufficient postage to cover the return of your drawing, in case of its 
rejection; and see to it that your address is clearly written upon the 
margin or back of the paper. 

Wash drawings for illustration are made with a brush and water 
color or India ink. Lampblack is a good medium and so, too, is sepia. 
But many artists use only ink, leaving the white paper for the high 
lights. It is best to avoid the use of Chinese white. 

If it is not convenient to purchase the geometrical objects made 
especially for drawing purposes, substitutes can be found in any house- 



206 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


hold. White pasteboard boxes, vases of simple design, books, or kitchen 
ware, etc., will be useful. 

OIL-COLOR PAINTING 


When the student has acquired a certain skill in drawing, he may 
make, his first efforts in oil painting. The following list includes the 
colors that should be purchased for this work. 

White 


Orange Madder 
Rose Madder 
Raw Umber 
Cobalt 

Burnt Sienna 
Ivory Black 


Strontian Yellow 

Cadmium Yellow 

Orange Cadmium 
Yellow Ocher 
Ultramarine 
Terre-verte 


This list also indicates the arrangement of the colors upon the 
palette. The paint box for holding the colors and other materials is 
made of lacquered tin, the lid being so arranged that a sketch made out 
of doors can be carried without risk of being spoiled before the paint 
is dry. The palette should be rather large and of light weight. It is 
also best to have one of light color rather than dark. A palette which 
is well cleaned and polished after being used will accpiire a beautifully 
smooth surface and a delicate tone. 

Brushes for oil painting are of two kinds, bristle and sable; of the 
latter variety, only the red sable, in two or three of the smaller sizes, 
will be needed. They are expensive, but indispensable for fine touches 
and for outlines. Most painters have on hand three or four dozens of 
bristle brushes, but the student will not need any such number. It is 
of more importance in choosing the latter to get a good variety of shapes 
and sizes. There are both round and flat brushes. In the round kind, 
select those having long rather than short bristles; they should not be 
too thick and should be flexible and elastic. You will use more of the 
flat brushes than of the round ones. There will also be several small 
bristle brushes, but it is advisable to use them as little as possible. All 
brushes should be carefully washed with warm water and soap after 
every painting. Turpentine is sometimes recommended for cleaning 
purposes, but nothing could be much worse for the brushes, as it 
hardens and stiffens the hairs and bristles. A palette knife is also 
needed in oil painting, both for cleaning the palette and for mixing the 
colors. The blade should be very flexible and elastic^. The mahl-stick 
is useful for resting, the hand when steadiness is required in painting, 
but the student should not become too dependent upon its use as such 
dependence interferes with the free movement of hand and arm. An 
oil cup will be needed, though it is best to avoid the use of oil as much 


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as possible. The cup is made to attach to the edge of the palette. For 
beginners, academy board is very satisfactory to paint upon. It is 
cheaper than canvas and is made in a large assortment of sizes. By 
writing to any art dealer, a catalogue of materials with prices can be 
obtained, which will be helpful in making a choice of articles. 

It would be advisable for the beginner in oil painting to commence 
with a simple still life study. For still life work, much material may be 
found in the household. Vases, copper vessels, kitchen utensils, books, 
fruit, and vegetables — all lend themselves to attractive grouping. Do 
not attempt to paint flowers until facility has been acquired in mixing 
the colors and in handling your tools. Drapery usually forms part of a 
still-life arrangement and should be chosen with a view to the general 
harmony of color and texture. Drapery, by the way, makes an excel¬ 
lent study in itself, and it is advisable for the student to devote some of 
his time to the painting of different materials hung in folds from a chair 
back or thrown in a crumpled heap upon a table. Make a study of silk 
drapery,— of satin, plush, velvet, and various wool fabrics,— try to rep¬ 
resent both color and texture. If several students are working together, 
as has been suggested, it would be a good plan for each to contribute to 
the class properties a piece of good drapery. 

Great care should be taken in the arrangement of a still-life group. 
Try to get the best possible composition ; keep the objects together, rather 
than scattered, and do not group utterly incongruous articles. See, too, 
that a good light falls upon the subject. 

After the group has been arranged, the first step is to make a careful 
drawing of it upon the canvas or academy board. Use charcoal for this, 
and follow the rules for drawing as given on another page. This prelim¬ 
inary work should be fixed with fixative and an atomizer, so that it will 
not brush off. The next step is to paint over the drawing with one color, 
put on very thin: the color used in this preliminary painting is a matter 
for the judgment of the student; it should be one that will harmonize 
with the general coloring of the entire group. Raw umber, or raw 
umber mixed with burnt sienna, can generally be used for the pur¬ 
pose. The object is to aid you in getting your values. Both in the 
drawing and in the preliminary painting, an effort should be made to 
place the shadows in their proper relation to each other — to make as 
correct a drawing of the subject as is possible. 

When the first painting is dry, you arc ready to commence with the 
body color. Do not hurry — study the colors in your subject and try to 
match them on your palette; and when you have secured the color you 
want, put it on the canvas with a bold, free stroke of the brush. Do not 
use a mahl-stick except when it is necessary to put in a small line or a 
delicate accent. Paint your background first —or at least paint enough 


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of it to aid you in getting the other values in your subject. Don’t be 
afraid of your paint and brushes — it is better to make a bold mistake 
than to fail utterly through timidity. In placing a color upon the can¬ 
vas, you should not only be careful that it (< matches the color of the 
object you are painting, but that it has its proper value in relation to 
every color around it. One color in your group will be lighter than all 
the others; another color will be darker than the others; and between 
these two points will be a variety of values which it is your object to 
properly place. Power to do this can be gained only through much 
thought and careful study. If your subject contains several light ob¬ 
jects, you will at first be inclined to believe that all are equally light; 
but looking at the group more closely you will find that this is not so. 
Close your eyes partly so that you see the group as a mass, and you will 
find that certain of the objects which appeared to be as light in color as 
the others, have become less conspicuous, and by comparison, are really 
much darker. Try to see and to preserve this relation of values through¬ 
out your work. There are excellent handbooks on the subject of paint¬ 
ing which will be of much use to the student who is working without 
an instructor. 

WATER-COLOR PAINTING 


The selection of materials for oil or water-color painting should be made 
with great care — if possible, under the direction of some one who under¬ 
stands the art. Nothing requisite to good work should be omitted; but 
it should be borne in mind that eminent painters, as a rule, produce their 
best effects with a comparatively small number of colors. 

The materials used in water-color painting are colors, brushes, paper, 
— either in single sheets or pads,— pencils, and a drawing board. A 
great many colors are used in water-color painting, but the following list 
includes all that are necessary for practical purposes: — 


Pale Cadmium 
Orange Cadmium 
Indian Yellow 
Yellow Ocher 
Emerald Green 
Hooker’s Green No. 2 
Indigo 

Prussian Blue 


French Blue 
New Blue 
Permanent Violet 
Purple Madder 
Rose Madder 
Light Red 
Carmine 
Indian Red 


Burnt Carmine 
Burnt Sienna 
Raw Umber 
Brown Ocher 
Vandyke Brown 
Sepia 

Brown Madder 
Chinese White 


Water colors are put up in three forms,— pans, tubes, and dry cakes. 
The pan colors being always moist enough to work with easily are more 
suitable for the beginner. They should be bought in half-pan sizes. 
Chinese white, being but little used, should be carried in tubes. The 
colors should be placed in the box in chromatic succession, commencing 


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with the lightest — the yellows, then the greens, blues, purples, reds, and 
browns. 

Brushes for water-color painting are of three kinds: brown sable, red 
sable, and camel’s hair. Large brushes, of firm body, elastic, and not too 
pointed, are to be chosen. The hair of a good brush keeps its pointed 
shape when dry as well as when wet. Small brushes are seldom needed. 
Brown sable brushes are the most expensive. Those of red sable, which 
are much cheaper, will answer every purpose of the beginner. Camel’s- 
hair brushes are not so good as the others. A good working equipment 
consists of one small No. 2, one large No. 2, one large No. 4. One red 
sable brush should be kept for whites, and nothing else. Another for 
delicate yellows and reds. For painting marine views and landscapes, 
and also for flowers, fruit, and still-life groups, two large round sable 
brushes are required. One flat sable of medium size is also useful. A 
flat bristle brush of medium size will sometimes be found serviceable in 
landscape and marine painting. 

Use only paper made especially for water-color painting*. Whatman’s 
or Steinbach’s is best for the purpose. Water-color paper is made in 
smooth, medium, and rough finish. For the beginner, the medium 
finish is best. The rough finish produces a strong effect. The smooth 
paper is preferred when little color or moisture is required. Water- 
color paper can be procured in blocks or pads, and for the begin¬ 
ner, especially, these blocks are most serviceable. They are made 
in several sizes —the most convenient being 12x15 inches in di¬ 
mensions. The colors should be allowed to dry before the sheet is 
removed from the block. There is also a water-color board made 
which is often used, but for all practical purposes these blocks are just 
as good. 

Many artists prefer to <( mount w the paper for their water-color work 
— a very delicate operation. Mounting consists of stretching the 
paper smoothly over a frame, for convenience in working. The sheet 
of paper is cut about an inch larger all around, than the board upon 
which it is to be mounted. Lay the sheet on the board, right side up, 
and moisten it thoroughly by sponging it gently with cold water. Great 
care must be taken not to injure the surface of the paper by rough rub¬ 
bing. When the paper is well dampened apply a strong glue to the 
four edges which are to be turned down around the board; see that the 
paper is pulled smooth and even. The work must be done as rapidly 
as possible, as the paper dries unevenly and quickly and your work may 
be spoiled by wrinkles unless all of the edges are glued down at about 
the same time. The paper can be fastened on the under side of the board, 
by means of thumb tacks if desired, but glue is safer. As the paper 

dries, it should become taut and very smooth. 

1—14 


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A hard lead pencil of the best quality; a cotton cloth for drying the 
superfluous moisture from the brushes, a bowl or glass to hold water, 
and a piece of clean blotting paper will also be required. 

The first studies in water color should be made from simple still-life 
arrangements, such as are described for drawing. Do not attempt at 
once to work out of doors, or to paint flowers or figures. The subject 
should be sketched on the paper with a lead pencil, care being taken to 
avoid heavy lines and erasures. The drawing board is held at an 
angle which will permit the color to flow downward, and the paper 
should be slightly dampened all over before beginning to paint. It is 
advisable for the beginner to practise the handling of his brushes and 
the laying on of broad washes. The latter may seem a simple matter, 
but it is not, as the paint shows an aggravating tendency to dry in spots 
and edges which cannot afterward be removed. 

CHINA PAINTING 

China painting is best learned under an experienced teacher, but 
those who are unable to avail themselves of such instruction may ac¬ 
quire the art unaided if they bring unlimited patience and a certain 
amount of intelligence to the work. The first consideration is, of 
course, the firing of the china. To the person dwelling at a distance 
from large cities this would be an insurmountable barrier, unless a port¬ 
able kiln could be procured. Portable gas kilns are now manufactured 
and may be obtained from dealers in art supplies. These can be set up 
in any part of the house where there is gas attachment. From one and 
a half to two hours is the time required for firing, but the ware should 
be allowed to cool gradually before removing it from the kiln. 

The firing of the china being provided for, the next step is the selec¬ 
tion of ware. A porcelain should be chosen that is absolutely free 
from cracks, spots, or other blemishes, and that has a pure white pol¬ 
ished surface. Berlin porcelain is adapted for figure painting because 
of its high finish. French porcelain fires well. The English porcelains 
are all well adapted for china painting. None of these foreign wares, 
however, excels those which are manufactured at Trenton, New Jersey. 
The fine, delicate surface of the Trenton ware lends itself to the most 
artistic treatment. 

The materials for painting should be carefully collected. The rol- 
lowing is a list of indispensable articles: — 

i steel palette knife. 

i hand rest. 

i muller and a ground-glass slab, for mixing. 

i porcelain palette. 

i medium-sized dabber. 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


2 1 r 


i erasing point. 

i steel and horn palette knife (for mixing gold, white relief paste, blues, 
violets, carmines), 
i ivory stylus. 

i bottle of tinting and painting oil. 
i “ “ tar oil for mixing relief paste, 

i “ “ fat oil for colors and gold. 

i “ “ tar paste for stenciling designs preparatory to painting, 

i alcohol lamp (for drying colors more expeditiously). 

Tracing paper. 

Tube colors already ground in oil are the most convenient for ama¬ 
teur use. The following is a list of the colors, manufactured by La¬ 
croix, which will be found most useful: — 

Reds — 

Rouge capucine (Capucine red). 

Rouge chair No. i (Flesh red No. i). 

Brun rouge riche (Dark red brown). 

Violet de fer (Iron violet). 

Purples — 

Pourpre riche (Deep purple). 

Violet d'or force (Dark golden violet). 

Blues — 

Bleu del azur (Sky blue). 

Bleu out rarer riche (Dark ultramarine). 

Greens — 

Vert No. 5prc- (Grass green). 

Vert brur No. 6 (Brown green). 

Vertpomne (Apple green). 

Yellows — 

Jaune a mcler (Mixing yellow). 

Jaime d'ivoire (Ivory yellow). 

Jaime jonquille (Jonquil yellow). 

Jaime d'argent (Silver yellow). 

Browns — 

Brim force (Deep brown). 

Brun jaune (Yellow brown). 

Blacks — 

Noir d'ivoire (Ivory black). 

Noir corbeau (Crow black). 

White — 

Blanc fixe (Permanent white). 

Grays — 

Gris tendre (Light gray). 

Gris noir (Black gray). 


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HOME STUDY OF ART 


The brushes are another important consideration and great care 
should be exercised in their selection, and in their subsequent treatment. 
After using a brush it should be rinsed in alcohol, rolled to a point, 
and laid aside until again needed. 

Having procured the ware and the materials for painting, the next 
step is tracing the design upon the china. This of course presupposes 
an elementary knowledge of drawing. The surface is prepared by 
rubbing it with spirits of turpentine. The outline is then drawn 
with a hard lead pencil. If a ground is to be laid (by which is 
meant covering the surface of the china with a uniform tint to serve 
as a background to further decoration) the following method should be 
observed: — • 

i 

If, for instance, a cream tint is desired, take four parts of color, add 
to it two parts of tinting oil, and thoroughly mix to a smooth paste; 
then add turpentine until a consistency is obtained which covers the 
ware opaquely, runs smoothly from the brush, and which does not spread. 
If too thin, add a little more color. The best brush for the purpose is 
a large camel’s-hair grounding-brush, size 12. 

Having made all preparations, proceed to put on the color quickly, 
in broad, free washes, which will blend into an even background. If an 
uneven surface results, a dabber must be used to perfect the blending. 
This dabber is made by placing cotton within a little square of silk or 
linen and tying the four corners together. Not until the ground tint is 
perfectly dry can the design be traced upon it. 

If tube colors are used, it is necessary to dilute them with turpentine. 
A drop or two of oil of turpentine will facilitate the laying of the colors. 
Clove oil is also used, but in using it, the colors do not dry as quickly. 
Differences in climate also affect the drying. Colors containing iron 
should always be carefully washed from the brushes before colors which 
do not contain iron are used. The brushes should be of medium size; 
and it is better for beginners to accustom themselves to large rather 
than to small brushes, that they may better learn delicacy of manipula¬ 
tion. If a mistake be made in laying on a color, the color applied 
must be allowed to dry before the mistake can be rectified, otherwise 
a blotted appearance will result. 

Mixing colors and learning their uses forms a fascinating division of 
china painting. The classification of Monsieur Lacroix divides colors 
into three groups: — 

First — Colors which contain no iron — the blues, golds, and whites. 
Second —Colors which contain but little iron — greens and yellows. 
Third — Those colors which have iron as a base — reds, red browns, flesh 
reds, browns, brown yellows, ochers, blacks, iron violets, and the major¬ 
ity of grays. 


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Of the first group, carmines, carmine lake, purples, and gold violets, 
have their base of gold. The base of blues is cobalt. Cobalt with iron 
produces tints ranging from light gray to black. To obtain fresh green 
color, jonquil yellow should be used with blue. Silver yellow mixes 
readily with gold, iron violet, and some reds. 

Blacks are made of cobalt and iron, the cobalt predominating. 
Browns are formed from mixtures of iron and cobalt. Grays are formed 
by mixing blacks, blues, and reds, according to the tint required; or by 
mixing complementary colors like reds and greens; or by mixing one- 
third ivory black, with two-thirds sky blue. All colors do not fuse alike, 
some requiring more heat for their fusion than others. Those requiring 
the greatest heat are called hard colors. 

The more fusible colors are: — 

Bleu ciel clair (Light sky blue). 

Carmin tendre (Soft carmine). 

Gris perle (Pearl gray). 

Gris roux (Reddish gray). 

Jaime d'ivoire (Ivory yellow). 

Blanc fixe or permanent white. (Seldom used in painting on hard por¬ 
celain except for touches of high light upon flowers, jewels, etc.) 

Flowers are usually the first decorations attempted by beginners. If 
they have a good knowledge of drawing and a fair eye for color, better 
results are obtained by painting direct from the natural flower, but col¬ 
ored designs are furnished by all art stores. These are best for the be¬ 
ginner. 

The following is a list of the most important colors required for 
flower painting:—■ 

Blues — 

Bleu ceil azur (Sky blue). 

Bleu riche (Deep blue). 

Greens — 

Vertpomvie (Apple green). 

Vert No. 5 pre (Grass green). 

Vert No. 6 brim (Brown green). 

Vert No. 7 noir (Black green). 

Yellows — 

Jaime jonquille (Jonquil yellow). 

Jaune orange (Orange yellow). 

Jaune a mcler (Mixing yellow). 

Poinfire riche (Deep purple). 

Carmin, No. j Jonce (Dark carmine). 

Violet d'or (Golden violet). 

Reds — 

Rouge capucine (Capucine red). 

Rouge orange (Orange red). 


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Reds — Continued. 

Rouge chair No. 2 (Flesh red). 

Brun rouge riche (Deep red brown). 

For white flowers, the local tint is formed by the surface of the china. 
For the shadows, gray is used. For the high lights, permanent white 
{plane fixd). For yellow flowers, use jonquil yellow or mixing yellow. 
For blue flowers, sky blue or deep blue: for paler blues, a little carmine 
may be added. For pink flozvers, use carmine, and shade with a mixture 
of carmine and apple green. For red flozvers, use capucine red, orange 
red, and deep red brown. Purple flozvers require a mixture of deep blue 
and deep purple. The yellow centers of flowers require mixing yellow, 
heightened with jonqriil yellow. For the shading, use brown green. 

In painting flowers, begin at the center and work to the edge of the 
petals. When the colors of the local tone are dry in the several parts, 
put in the shading. The depth of the colors depends largely upon the 
surface of the china, whether the ground-tint is dark or light. No par¬ 
ticular and infallible instruction can be given. The artistic sense of the 
china painter is the best guide in the production of color effects, and the 
cultivation of this sense is dependent upon constant experiment. 

In painting foliage, begin with the central vein and work toward the 
edge. Grass green is used for the local tint. To obtain a bluish green, 
add blue; for a yellow green, add jonquil yellow. 

Brown green mixed with grass green can be used for shadows. For 
very dark shadows use black green. 

Iron violet may be used for the red touches on leaves. 

Butterflies, the natural accompaniment of flowers, are not difficult to 
paint. The veining of the wings requires ivory black. For the ordi¬ 
nary yellow butterfly, use mixing yellow. 

Painting landscapes upon china requires first of all a delicate sense of 
color, and a keen appreciation of natural effects. A knowledge of draw¬ 
ing is also necessary, but the accuracy required is less than for flower 
painting. Much practice and not a little artistic knowledge are required 
in painting landscapes direct from nature. Colored landscape cards, 
which are better for the beginner, can be obtained at any art store. 

Painting heads and figures upon china is most difficult and should 
not be attempted without some previous knowledge of china painting. 
The colors required for heads and figures are: — 

Noir d'ivoire (Ivory black). 

Bleu ciel (Sky blue). 

Brim 4 fonce (Dark brown). 

Brun rouge riche (Deep red brown). 

Rouge chair No. 2 (Flesh red). 

Jaune d'ivoire (Ivory yellow). 

Brun sdpia (Sepia). 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


215 


The design should be traced rather than drawn, as the greatest accu¬ 
racy of outline is required. For the background, mix one-third of ivory 
black with two-thirds of sky blue. It should be darkest near the head, . 
light near the edges, and should be laid on very rapidly. About one-half 
can be put in before it is ready to blend. The other half can be joined 
above the head 

For the flesh tint , use flesh red No. 2 mixed with two-thirds of ivory 
yellow. Too much yellow should be avoided. After putting in the 
local tint of the complexion and the local tint of the hair, work over the 
background, shading it from the edge to the center. 

To shade the faec, mix one-third of ivory black, one-third of flesh red 
No. 2, and one-third of sky blue. The features may be put in with the 
shading tint. They require the most delicate touch. 

For the cheeks and lips , use deep red brown. For the shadows a little 
black mixed with iron violet may be used. 

For the eyebrows , use the same color as the hair. Dark hair requires 
dark brown, and should be shaded with black. For light hair , use sepia 
or ivory yellow, shaded with sepia and black. For the finishing work on 
faces, the finest brushes must be used. 

POTTERY 

The history of the art of pottery is closely interwoven with the history 
of civilization. From the ancient sepulchral urns, over which Sir Thomas 
Browne quaintly moralizes, to the latest product of Sevres, the develop¬ 
ment of the potter’s art has been, in itself, a register of human progress, 
of continual struggle toward perfection. 

Pottery is usually divided into three groups: Earthenware, stoneware, 
and porcelain. Earthenware, or soft pottery, is again subdivided into: — 

1. Unglazed; as a common flowerpot. 

2. Lustrous; having a transparent, shining surface, produced by a 
thin glaze. 

3. Glazed; having a thick, shining surface, produced by the use of 
lead. 

4. Enameled; the clay being hidden by an opaque coating, produced 
by the use of tin, and impervious to water. 

The largest part of all ancient pottery is included in the first three 
groups. Most modern pottery, Majolica , Faience , and other wares, is in 
the fourth division. The clays used are of various degrees of purity. For 
porcelain, the purest of all clays, kaolin is used. It formed the chief 
material of the beautiful Chinese porcelain which for centuries was the 
despair of European potters, until the discovery of kaolin in Cornwall, 
England, and in other western countries, made the manufacture of porce¬ 
lain possible in Europe. 


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2 I 6 


Outside of China, therefore, the history of porcelain belongs to a very 
late era in the development of the potter’s art; but the manufacture of 
earthenware dates back two thousand years before Christ. In Egypt, 
the mysterious motherland of civilization, the potter’s wheel was used 
for forming cups; and certain enameled vessels bear the names of kings 
who reigned even earlier than this period. Bricks of sun-dried clay 
were, perhaps, the first products of the potter’s art before he learned to 
round upon his wheel, cups, vases, bowls, and other articles of decorative 
or domestic value. At Telloh, between the Euphrates and the Tigris, 
Monsieur de Sarzec discovered the remains of a great palace. Walls were 
found eight feet in thickness and composed of large square bricks, each 
bearing the name of Judea, a king of Chaldea, who reigned about 2700 
B.C. The first servic.es of the potter were to history. The men who 
baked the bricks of those ancient palaces little dreamed that thousands of 
years after, the products of their simple skill would be eagerly studied, 
as a means of historical enlightenment. 

Bricks and tiles, though made by the potter, are not in the strictest 
sense, pottery. The earliest extant specimens of pottery come from 
Egypt. These are long, narrow vases, bowls, and jars, of a deep red 
color. A painting in the tomb of Beni Hassan represents potters form¬ 
ing their wares upon wheels — stirring the clay, preparing the oven, 
and carrying the cups from the oven after they are baked. The He¬ 
brews must have learned the art of pottery from the Egyptians: for 
there are several references to this art in the Bible, as in Genesis XI, 3: 
<( Go to, let us make bricks and burn them thoroughly.” 

Next to the Egyptian, the early Phoenician pottery is of greatest 
interest, as being the direct forerunner of the beautiful pottery of the 
Greeks. The Cesnola collection of Phoenician pottery, in the Metropol¬ 
itan Museum of New York, includes fine examples of this early ware. 
The first attempts at decoration were geometric lines, circles, zigzags, 
chequers, etc. Later, lotus flowers, birds, and animals, were painted 
in deep red and black colors upon the clay. The transition from Phoe¬ 
nician to Greek pottery is so gradual that no sharp distinction can be 
made. Human figures, rather than geometric designs, form the chief 
decoration of Greek vases after the year 600 B.C. The figures were 
painted black upon the natural red or yellow color of the clay. Be¬ 
tween the years 400 and 300 B.C. scenes from the poets and from his¬ 
tory, or representations of athletic sports, were depicted. Vases, pre¬ 
sumably from the graves of athletes, bear pictures of boxing, disk 
and spear throwing, or chariot racing. Many of» these are inscribed 
with words, which are like an echo of gay speech heard across the 
centuries: <( Oinanthe is lovely! ® one vase proclaims; another says, 
(( Exekias it was who made and painted me”; Exekias, dead two thou- 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


217 


sand years ago in sunny Greece, and unknown, except through the little 
vase he made and inscribed. By their names upon their handiwork, 
a few of the Greek potters are known to the modern world: Amasos, 
Euphronius, Hieron, and Exekias, are among the most celebrated. 

The Romans adapted the art of pottery to a thousand practical pur¬ 
poses; using it for drains, for roofs, and floors, for lining graves, and for 
friezes and panels. Ornamental statues and statuettes were frequently 
modeled in clay; but the Romans, lacking the inventive and the artistic 
faculties, never developed pottery beyond the stage where they found it. 
When the empire was approaching its dissolution, ceramic art appears to 
have fallen into decay, and finally it was lost to Europe altogether. Under 
the weight of the barbaric invasions, all arts, the potter’s among them, 
were crushed out of existence. Europe was indebted to the Saracens for 
the renaissance of the art of pottery. The Saracens were indebted to 
the Persians, who retained and practised this art, undisturbed by the 
(< drums and tramplings of many conquests. Persia was conquered by 
the Mohammedans in the seventh century; at this time, beautiful pottery 
was made by the Persians and they taught their conquerors all that they 
knew of the art. Glazed tiles for the pavements and walls of their 
mosques began to be greatly in demand among the Saracens. The tiled 
pavements of medieval cathedrals were, it is said, suggested by those 
of the Eastern mosques. 

Ceramic art, as learned by the Saracens, reentered Europe by way 
of Spain. Dishes and vases were elaborately decorated in what is called 
the Hispano-Moresque style; rich arabesques painted upon enamel of 
various colors. Meanwhile, in Italy, the destined home of world- 
renowned potters, ceramic art manifested only the crudest expression 
until the beginning of the fifteenth century, when Lucca della Robbia, 
a Florentine artist, found a method of perfecting Majolica ware. The 
manufacture of this ware, which is earthen, covered with a thick opaque 
enamel, had long been known to the Saracens; and it had been partially 
imitated in Italy. The peculiar glaze of Majolica is called stanniferous 
enamel, because of the admixture of lead which it contains. Della 
Robbia’s earliest work in this ware is the <( Resurrection, w in the Cathe¬ 
dral of Florence, a plaque with raised white figures upon a blue ground. 
The Della Robbia family carried Majolica pottery to a rare perfection, 
using it as a medium of exquisite decoration. The Bambino plaques on 
the Foundling Hospital in Florence, figures of swaddled infants on a 
blue ground, are among the loveliest of the Della Robbia creations. 
Another beautiful work is the ceiling decoration in the <( Chapel of the 
Cardinal, }> in the basilica church of San Miniato, on the hills above 
Florence. With the work of the Della Robbia family began the golden 
age of Majolica manufacture in Italy. The secret of producing stan- 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


2 I 8 

niferous enamel was everywhere learned. Faience is as often applied 
to this ware as is Majolica; but the latter is the proper term, since 
Faience is also used to describe a ware covered with a thin transparent 
glaze; Majolica is properly applied only to a thick opaque enamel. 
The most celebrated Majolica factories of the Italian Renaissance were 
those of Faenza, of Urbino, the birthplace of Raphael; and of Gubbio, a 
small town in the duchy of Urbino, where the work of the Master 
Giorgio Andreoli became world-famous. His ware is distinguished by 
its rich golden yellows, its ruby reds, and by its superb decorations. 
The greatest artists, like Raphael, did not disdain to leave lines of grace 
and beauty upon Majolica bowls, vases, and jars. Much of the decora¬ 
tion of the Urbino pottery is from designs by Raphael. Other celebrated 
varieties of Majolica came from Cafaggiolo, from Pesaro, and from 
Deruta; beautiful forms, each individual in style and color, and bear¬ 
ing the lasting imprint of the genius of their creator. 

Examples of Renaissance Majolica now command enormous prices. 
At the Fountaine sale in 1884, a Faenza plate of the year 1508, brought 
^920; another 620 guineas; while 730 and 780 guineas, respectively, 
were paid for two dishes by Maestro Giorgio. The manufacture of Ital¬ 
ian Majolica and Faience continues to the present day, though the prod¬ 
ucts of the Renaissance have never been improved upon. The most 
striking characteristics of these wares are their beautiful rich colors and 
their elaborate decoration. The art of covering soft pottery with stan¬ 
niferous enamel soon extended to the other countries of Europe. One 
of the most celebrated private potteries of France, whose products are 
now priceless, was that established for her own pleasure by Helene de 
Hangest-Genlis, widow of Arthur Gouffier, Grand Master of France. 
Under her supervision was manufactured a kind of Faience , known as 
Henri Deux ware, because many of the pieces bear the monogram of 
Henry II. of France. It is also called Faience d'Oiron , after the town 
where it was made. The ware is of the finest clay, covered with a thin 
glaze. The decorations were made by graving patterns upon the clay, 
and filling in these lines with clays of different colors. Of this sump¬ 
tuous and distinctive Faience only fifty-three specimens are known; 
twenty-six being in France, twenty-six in England, and one in Russia. 
They are practically priceless in value. Of the few pieces displayed in 
the South Kensington Museum, London, a candlestick cost ^750, a salt¬ 
cellar ^300. At the Fountaine sale in 1884, a candlestick, about a foot 
in height, brought ^3,675. Henri Deux ware belongs, indeed, to the 
innermost circle of aristocratic pottery. 

The name of Bernard Palissy is foremost among the French potters 
of the sixteenth century. A heroic element pervades the life of this 
man who for sixteen years, and in the face of well-nigh insurmountable 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


219 


difficulties, sought the secret of enameling pottery. He built furnace 
after furnace; made experiment upon experiment. He, himself, tells of 
his despair, when after superhuman efforts, he could not get his enamel 
to melt as it should. 

(< I was obliged to burn the props which supported the trees in my 
garden, and these being burned, I was obliged to burn the tables and 
floors of my house, to make the second composition melt; I was in an 
agony that I cannot describe, for I was dried up and parched from the 
work and from the heat of the furnace. My shirt had not been dry for 
more than a month; and also, to console me, they laughed at me, and 
even those who ought to have helped me, went crying about the town 
that I was burning my floor; and by these means made me lose my 
credit; and they thought me mad. }> 

In this furnace of affliction, Palissy’s art was perfected. His fame 
spread throughout France, and he became a potter to the king. The 
body of his pieces is earthenware of pinkish-white pipe clay, thinly 
enameled in somewhat dull colors, and ornamented chiefly with imita¬ 
tions of natural objects, such as shells, fish, lizards; and sometimes, 
figures of men. After Palissy’s discovery, the art of enameling pottery 
spread rapidly through France. Manufactories were established at Ne- 
vero, Rouen, Marseilles, and numerous other towns. 

This art was also practised in Germany, very early in the sixteenth 
century. In quaint Nuremberg, Veit Hirschvogel made beautiful speci¬ 
mens of enameled ware, similar to Italian Majolica. Glazed pottery 
was largely used throughout Germany in the manufacture of the great 
tiled stoves, then, as now, the glory and comfort of German households. 
Hans Kraut immortalized himself in the decoration of these monumental 
stoves. One, of date 1578, in the South Kensington Museum, is covered 
with dark green tiles. The same Hans Kraut made, in 1536, an enameled 
pottery tomb of great size which was placed in the church of the Knights 
of St. John at Villengen. Upon it, in relief, was depicted the Siege of 
Rhodes. 

In Holland, the art of enameling was carried to a rare perfection in 
the famous Delft ware. Every conceivable object from a cow to a violin 
was reproduced. Gelett Burgess’s <( Purple Cow w is scarcely more sing¬ 
ular than the Delft cows, profusely covered with blue bouquets. All 
kinds of household dishes were also manufactured in Delft, which 
at the beginning of the seventeenth century supplied most of north¬ 
ern Europe. As in the decoration of Italian Majolica , the best artists 
made designs for Delft; Jan Steen, Van der Meer, Jan Asselyn, are 
among the decorators. 

England, although receiving most of its ware from Holland, possessed 
potteries of its own. Nothing of importance was produced, however, 


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HOME STUDY OF ART 


until after the middle of the eighteenth century, when Josiah Wedgwood 
manufactured the now familiar Queen’s ware, a pottery composed of white 
clay and flint, with a clear glass glaze. About ten years later, in 1773, he 
invented a new paste, out of which he manufactured an unglazed, hard, 
vitreous ware, the now famous <( Wedgwood. w For its decoration he used 
cameos, bas-reliefs, statues, seals, and other ornaments; mostly white 
upon a dull blue ground. The artist Flaxman frequently assisted 
Wedgwood in the composition of classical designs. One of Wedgwood’s 
most famous achievements was the copy he made in Jaspar ware of the 
Barberini vase in the British Museum. 

Stoneware occupies a place midway between earthenware and porce¬ 
lain ; it is fired at a high heat and is hard, dense, and vitreous. One of 
its distinctive features is its glazing, which is obtained by throwing com¬ 
mon sea-salt into the kiln, while at the highest heat. This salt-glaze, as 
it is called, is technically superior to all other glazes, as it is fused with 
the ware itself, instead of forming a coating. 

The earliest manufactories of stoneware were at Raeren, the center of 
the Flemish stoneware district. The ware was used chiefly for beer-drink¬ 
ing vessels. The Raeren ware was of a brown color, bearing appropriate 
decorations, such as a dance of peasants, or domestic scenes. Mottoes 
were abundantly used; these were mostly of a facetious character ar 

<( Let dogs bark; 

Let bauers dance; 

Or you get a cracked skull. )J 

The manufacture of salt-glaze stoneware was carried on extensively 
in England. In 1626, Thomas Rous and Abraham Cullyn obtained a 
license for <( the sole making of stone pots, stone jugs, and stone bottells, 
for the terme of fourteene yeares.Staffordshire became a great center 
of stoneware manufacture. Drinking mugs, in various shapes, were a 
favorite product in this ware. Some of them were in the shape of a 
sitting bear; others bore hunting scenes in relief. A large mug in the 
South Kensington Museum bears the legend, <( This is Thomas Cox’es 
cup: Come my Friend and drink it up. Good news is come; the Bells do 
ring; and here’s a Health to Prussia’s King. ® In the eighteenth century, 
stoneware for table use was largely displaced by Queen’s ware. The 
most famous stoneware manufactory of modern times is that of the firm 
of Doultons, at Lambeth. Founded in 1815, it first acquired fame in the 
production of brown enameled stoneware; in 1846, Mr. Henry Doulton 
planned the manufacture of stoneware drainpipes, until then unknown. 
In 1867, I^e firm began the esthetic development of their ware by the 
introduction of <( Doulton-ware Sgraffito ® — pottery, vases, and jugs, 
made of common pipe-clay, with simple stamped patterns. This ware 
has since been brought to a high degree of perfection. 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


22 1 


Porcelains. — The Chinese were the earliest manufacturers of por¬ 
celain, which is a translucent pottery made by uniting- a peculiar form 
of clay, kaolin, with powdered feldspar. For hundreds of years the 
secret of its manufacture remained in China. Such products as found 
their way to Europe were eagerly sought by collectors, and were re¬ 
garded with envy by the potters who endeavored in vain to imitate 
them. In China itself, the art of porcelain-making was held in the high¬ 
est honor. Certain kinds of ware were, and are still, reserved for the 
emperor and great dignitaries. During the different dynasties the 
colors peculiar to those dynasties were prominent upon the wares. 
Green was the color of the Ming Dynasty, (1368-1643); and in the por¬ 
celain of that period, which is very abundant, green predominates. 
The color.of the Tcheon Dynasty, a soft, peculiar blue, was so highly 
esteemed that fragments of the porcelain were used as precious stones. 
The Chinese excel in their colors, which are of a purity and depth 
unrivaled in the colors of European porcelain. A peculiar form of 
their modes of decoration is known as <( Crackle, ® in which the surface 
of the porcelain is covered with irregular cracks or veinings, some¬ 
times left uncolored, but oftener filled in with color, such as veinings 
of golden brown on a duller brown background. The Japanese derive 
their knowledge of the making of porcelain from the Chinese. The 
porcelain wares of the two nations are very similar; but Japanese is gen¬ 
erally of a purer white, and the flower decorations are truer to nature. 

Toward the end of the sixteenth century, soft paste porcelain was 
first made in Europe, in the laboratory of the Grand Duke, Fran¬ 
cis I., of Tuscany. But the art was soon lost, and was not revived 
until 1695, when soft porcelain of a fine transparent quality was man¬ 
ufactured at St. Cloud, in France. The method of producing the genu¬ 
ine Chinese porcelain was discovered in a peculiar manner. Augustus, 
elector of Saxony and king of Poland, had in his employ a chemist, 
Bottcher by name, whom he employed to search for the philosopher’s 
stone. In his experiments, Bottcher discovered a kind of clay, which 
when baked produced a hard stoneware resembling porcelain. He con¬ 
tinued experimenting with this clay until, in 1710, he discovered by 
accident the process of making real porcelain. Some hair powder pur¬ 
chased by his valet attracted his attention because of its weight. He 
combined it with the clay, and produced porcelain. The powder, 
made from a clay found at Aue, was identical with the Chinese kaolin. 
A factory was established at Meissen, and in 1715, the earliest wares, 
decorated in blue and white, were offered for sale. This famous fac¬ 
tory produced later what is known as Dresden ware. The secrets of 
its manufacture were jealously guarded, but one of the workmen, escap¬ 
ing to Vienna, founded a factory there. Other porcelain potteries were 


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established in Hochst, which became a center of the art. Factories were 
founded in Hungary, in Russia, in Sweden, and in France, where that 
of Sevres became famous. The first porcelain made in England 
was at Stratford-le-Bow, about 1740. Factories of hard-paste por¬ 
celain were established at Plymouth, at Bristol, and at Worcester; 
the latter place became famous for its beautiful and original work. 
The products of this factory are generally known as Royal Wor¬ 
cester. 

The following is an alphabetical list of the more important porcelains 
of past and present manufacture: 

Amstel Porcelain; made near Amsterdam in the Netherlands, and 
used largely for table service. The decoration is simple. The marking 
is the initial A, or the full word <( Amstel. ® 

Berlin Porcelain; a hard-paste porcelain made at the royal factory of 
Berlin; extremely varied in shape and decoration. The marking is a 
scepter in blue, with the letters K. P. M., for Konigl Porzellan Manufak- 
tur; or these words in full around the rim of a circular seal, with the 
royal eagle in the middle. 

Bow Porcelain; the earliest English porcelain, decorated with haw¬ 
thorn branches, or with figures; marked with a bent bow, with an arrow 
on the string. 

Budweis Porcelain; made at Budweis in Bohemia ; a modern, hard- 
paste porcelain. 

Caen Porcelain; made at Caen in Normandy, during the French Rev¬ 
olution; extremely rare; the marking is the name (< Caen >} in full. 

Capodimonte Porcelain; made at Capodimonte, a suburb of Naples; 
decorated with figures in high relief. 

Chelsea Porcelain; an old English production of the eighteenth cen¬ 
tury, made from soft paste. 

Copenhagen Porcelain; an eighteenth century, hard-paste porcelain 
made at Copenhagen. The mark is three rippling or waving lines. The 
modern work consists largely of unglazed statuettes and groups. 

Derby Porcelain; a soft-paste porcelain made at Derby, England, in 
the eighteenth century; very translucent, with brilliant colors. Un¬ 
glazed biscuit ware in figures was also a specialty of this factory. Crown 
Derby is a variety of Derby porcelain. The mark is a D with a crown; 
or the monogram D. K., with a St. Andrew’s Cross. Derby crown por¬ 
celain is the modern product, in imitation of old Crown Derby. 

Dresden Porcelain; made at the royal factory of Meissen, near Dres¬ 
den, in Saxony, established in 1707, and the first manufactory of hard- 
paste porcelain in Europe. This porcelain is noted for its purity, and 
for the brilliance of its decorations, which comprise bouquets, birds, 
flowers, and landscapes. Watteau figures are also made in Dresden 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


2-3 


ware. This mark is generally two swords crossed. Old Dresden por¬ 
celain is sometimes called Vieux Saxe. 

Hizen Porcelain; a ware made in the province of Hizen, in Japan; 
decorated with blue under the glaze, and with green and gold, or red, 
upon the glaze. 

Limoges Porcelain; made at Limoges, in the department of Haute- 
Vienne, France; formerly a soft-paste porcelain; from 1779 to the pres¬ 
ent, a hard-paste porcelain. Limoges is one of the most important 
ceramic products of modern France. 

Lowestoft Porcelain; made at Lowestoft, England, in the latter 
part of the eighteenth century; is very highly prized among old English 
wares. 

Medici Porcelain; made under the supervision of the Medici -family 
of Florence; very rare. The mark is the three balls of the Medici arms, 
or a sketch of the dome of the Florentine Cathedral. 

Sevres Porcelain; a hard-paste porcelain first made at Vincennes, 
near Paris, in 1745; afterward at Sevres. In 1758 Louis XV. became 
part proprietor of the Sevres factory; afterward sole owner. This por¬ 
celain is distinguished for the richness of its decoration. Painted medal¬ 
lions, wreaths, gold tracings, and jewels, are often introduced. The 
markings of Sevres have varied with the fortunes of France. Under 
the kings, the royal cipher was used; under the Republic, the word 
“Sevres, 0 and the initials “ R. F.° for Republique Francaise; under the 
Empire, <( M. Imple. de Sevres, 0 sometimes with the imperial eagle. 

Swansea porcelain; made at Swansea, England, between the years 
1814 and 1820, when the factory was removed to Coalport. It is ranked 
among the most perfect productions in English porcelain. The mark is 
a trident, or two tridents crossed. 

Worcester porcelain; a soft-paste porcelain made at Worcester, Eng¬ 
land, from 1751. It is oftener known as <( Royal Worcester. 0 George 
III. conferred the epithet <( Royal 0 upon it. The markings vary, a cres¬ 
cent being sometimes used; or a <( seal mark, 0 copied from Chinese por¬ 
celain. 

The history of American pottery goes back to the prehistoric races 
of Central America and to the mound builders of the Mississippi Valley. 
Vases, bricks, and water vessels have been found, witnessing to a crude 
knowledge of pottery among these early peoples. After the discovery 
and settlement of America, the products of the potter's art were for 
many years brought from Europe. The first brick house in America was 
erected in 1633, on Manhattan Island, by Governor Van Twiller, the 
bricks being imported from Holland; later, bricks were imported from 
England. China for table use was also imported, but the difficulty of 
procuring it debarred its general use, its place being taken by wooden 


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or pewter dishes. A porcelain factory was established at Philadelphia 
in 1771; but did not long remain in existence. 

In 1829 a pottery was founded in Jersey City, by Henderson and 
Company, for the manufacture of cream-colored and printed ware. In 
1838 the first pottery in New York was founded. 

In 1852, the now famous Trenton works were established by Taylor 
and Speeler. These works became the center of the American china 
trade and have won for Trenton the title of <( Staffordshire of America. w 

The best products of American pottery have been made since the 
Centennial, the exhibition of European wares being a strong incentive 
to a more perfect development of this art. Within the last twenty-five 
years, Cincinnati has become famous for the production of high artistic 
examples of decorated porcelain and pottery. 


PAINTING ON SILK 


Oil colors are preferable for silk painting. The following list in¬ 
cludes the colors necessary for the work:— 


Flake White 
Gamboge 
Burnt Sienna 
Lmht Red 


Indian Red 
Rose Madder 
Cobalt 

Prussian Blue 


Crimson Lake 
Vermilion 
Vandyke Brown 
Emerald Green 


Three brushes made of hog hair, are required, Nos. 6, 8, and 10; also 

$ 

a red sable, No. 2. It is well for the beginner to remember that all 
brushes used in painting—especially those for painting delicate mate¬ 
rials— should be kept perfectly clean. In choosing the brushes select 
those that are soft and springy. The red sable is used for putting in fine 
detail. An oblong palette and a palette knife are also necessary — also 
a vial of linseed oil for cleaning the palette. 

As in velvet painting, the first step is to transfer the design to the 
fabric, the latter having been stretched smoothly upon the drawing board 
and fastened securely with thumb tacks. 

To transfer the design to the silk, take a sheet of black impression paper, 
which can be obtained in any art material store, and place it between the 
pattern and the silk. Then carefully trace the outline of the design 
with a sharp-pointed stick or a hard lead pencil, taking care not to rest 
the hand upon the paper, as it will leave an impression on the fabric. If 
done carefully, only the outline of the design will appear on the silk after 
the tracing process. Black impression paper should be used for silks of 
light color, and red or blue for those of the darker shades. 

After tracing the pattern, the design should be filled in with a coat¬ 
ing of thinly-diluted gum arabic and allowed to dry. This will make a 
groundwork for the colors. After mixing the colors on the palette they 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


225 


should be placed on a piece of white blotting paper so that the oil may¬ 
be absorbed from them. The work of painting may then proceed in the 
same manner as on canvas. The artist should not try to paint more of 
the design than can be completed at one sitting, as the shading should be 

painted in while the colors are still wet. 

» 

Before painting on the silk it would be well to cover the back of the 
material with powdered magnesia. The finer parts of the design and 
all small details may be painted in with the red sable brush. Light, 
graceful designs without a background are not difficult to paint and are 
effective when finished. Small figures, cupids, and bunches of flowers 
may be taken up next, and any one with a taste for the beautiful will 
soon learn how to do these well and how to apply them to artistic or 
practical uses. 

But in this work, as in other decorative work, it is desirable, when 
possible, to originate one’s designs-—making studies of flowers and 
foliage direct from nature, and choosing at first those of the simplest 
forms and colors. 


PAINTING ON VELVET 


For painting on velvet, both oil and water colors are used. Water 
colors are easier to handle, but the work is more effective when done in 
oil. The following colors will be found serviceable for general use, but 
the artist may find it desirable to add others to suit his particular pur¬ 
poses : — 


Flake White 
Chrome Yellow 
Burnt Sienna 
Light Red 


Indian Red 
Rose Madder 
Ultramarine 
Prussian Blue 


Crimson Lake 
Vermilion 
Vandyke Brown 
Emerald Green 


Besides the colors, a few hog-hair brushes,— one each of Nos. 6, 8, 
and 10,— a bottle of turpentine, and one of linseed oil, are necessary; 
also a board for keeping the material smooth while painting. A palette 
and a palette knife will be found serviceable. 

Transferring the design to the velvet is the first step in the work. 
The velvet is laid on the drawing board and fastened smoothly with 
thumb tacks. The pattern which is to be painted is then placed on the 
fabric in the position desired. With a hat pin or darning needle the 
artist pricks the design through the pattern to the velvet beneath, mak¬ 
ing the holes very close together. A small bag of powdered starch is 
then passed over the pin holes and the design is thus reproduced in out¬ 
line on the material beneath. Great care should be taken to keep the 
pattern steadily in position on the velvet so that the outline may be 
perfectly correct. 

1—15 


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The next step is to prepare the palette. From the list given above 
select the colors required and after mixing the various shades with the 
palette knife, place them on a piece of white blotting paper so that the 
oil may be absorbed. From this, instead of from the palette, the colors 
may be taken up. 

When the material used is white velvet, an outline of the design 
should be drawn and filled in with a coating of diluted gum arabic 
to form a ground for the colors. Oil should not be used at all, but if 
the colors are too stiff a little turpentine will soften them. All repaint¬ 
ing should be avoided if possible, the artist being careful to get the 
tones right at first. Retouching is likely to destroy the beauty of the 
tints. 

To paint on velvet with water colors, the colors should be opaque. 
They can be purchased ready for use. The design should be outlined 
on the material in the same way as for oil painting and should then be 
painted in with Chinese white. This should be allowed to dry thor¬ 
oughly to form a ground work for the colors, which are placed over it. 
The artist must be careful that each painting is quite dry before the next 
color is applied. As water colors have a tendency to crumble a little, 
pure glycerine may be mixed with them. 

The Kensington style of painting on velvet produces beautiful effects. 
This is generally done in oil colors. The design is transferred to the 
fabric as directed, or it may be stamped on the material. When the colors 
are placed on the palette and mixed, take up with the palette knife a 
small portion of the color to be used ^nd place it on the point of a pen. 
Pens made especially for the work can be procured in any art store. Keep 
the paint well down toward the point, and see that the back is free from 
paint. 

Start from the outline, holding the pen as flat as possible, and draw the 
paint toward the center of the design. To imitate the Kensington stitch, 
this should be done in short, bold strokes. After each stroke, refill from 
the palette knife, placing only a small quantity of color on the pen each 
time. The colors should be blended with the pen, and the shading be 
done as in ordinary painting. For the finer work, such as twigs, stems, 
veins of leaves, etc., use a long steel pin with a china head, covering the 
point with the paint. Start from the outline and draw toward the center 
with a gently rolling motion so that the paint may be taken up evenly 
from the pin. 

Beginners in the work should be careful not to attempt a difficult sub¬ 
ject at first. Select something simple, as a blossom or a leaf. Practise 
on this for a time and the ability to paint larger subjects will soon be 
acquired. If possible, procure some work embroidered in the Kensing¬ 
ton stitch, and use it as a model. The work should not be removed from 


HOME STUDY OF ART 


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the frame until it is thoroughly, dry. A little practice will enable any one 
with good taste to do the work well and to apply it to many beautiful 
uses. 

MODELING IN CLAY AND WAX 

Modeling clay can be obtained through any art material shop. It is 
perfectly plastic, homogeneous, and free from grit, and must be kept 
thoroughly damp or it will crack, and break up into hard lumps. In 
small quantities, it can be kept in any earthenware vessel that will hold 
water. For larger quantities, a wooden box lined with zinc and soldered, 
to make it water tight, can be used. There are other modeling sub¬ 
stances which under certain conditions are more convenient to use. For 
any fine and small work, modeling wax, which can be obtained in vari¬ 
ous colors, is much in demand. It is made soft by warming, and when 
cold becomes quite hard. The model in wax can be set aside for any 
length of time while the work is in progress, and when finished it will 
last indefinitely. 

Modeling tools are usually made of boxwood. Steel tools for (< clean¬ 
ing w and for cutting, and steel rasps, are required when the models are 
produced in plaster. Hard-wood calipers are required for enlarging and 
reducing. They should have a movable center in order to alter the pro¬ 
portion between the ends. For ornaments, medallions, and for all work 
that is to be finished upon one side only, a flat board is employed. 
This is called a modeling board. A common slate, such as is used in 
schools, is often used for the same purpose. A stand with a revolving 
top is used to support the modeling board. The best objects from which 
to begin modeling are casts. These offer a variety of subjects and can 
be procured at any art material store. It is best to begin whth the sim¬ 
plest reliefs and not to attempt at first a difficult head or figure. Geo¬ 
metrical shapes, fruit, foliage, and flowers, may be obtained as studies, 
and there is also an interesting and useful assortment of hands and feet. 

Place the cast which has been chosen as a model on a level with the 
eye, and place your stand to the right of the cast. Commence by draw¬ 
ing on the modeling board an outline of the cast. When this is accom¬ 
plished the modeling may be commenced. Place on the stand, ready for 
use, a sufficient amount of clay. Break off a piece, press it between the 
fingers and the thumb of the right hand, and place it on the modeling 
board inside the outlines of the drawing. Press it firmly to the board so 
that it adheres. Repeat this process until the outline is filled in. Look 
frequently at the work from the side to see if the clay is being raised as 
high as the corresponding part of the cast; if it is not, add clay until the 
elevation is correct. While building up in this way, the fingers only 
should be used, and the student should have near him a damp sponge 


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on which he can moisten his fingers to prevent the clay from hardening 
on them. When too much clay has been put on, it can be removed by 
one of the toothed boxwood tools. Press all down as solid as possible, 
being careful to leave no tiny holes in the clay, as this may give much 
trouble as the work proceeds. 

When using the calipers, set them to the size, and test the various 
parts by actual measurement upon the cast. Do not use the compass at 
the beginning. Train the eye first and test its accuracy afterward by 
aid of rule and compass. When inaccuracies are found, the clay must 
be scraped away by means of one of the tools with fine teeth, or be built 
up with clay, as the case requires. When correct in these general pro¬ 
portions, it remains to refine the surface modeling, to draw the edges 
clean and true, and to complete the undercutting or trimming of the 
clay so that the completed work stands well out from the board. Take 
a fine tool and draw firmly and accurately the lines on the model, clean¬ 
ing out the clay. Use a tool to finish neatly the rounded tops, and to 
get clean corners. A tool will also be needed to finish and scrape away 
the clay that is undercut. 

The modeling of the figure is done in the same manner as described 
above. ( No tools should be used on the flesh except to obtain the sharp 
lines about the eyes and mouth. The hair should be represented broadly 
massed. This effect is obtained by thin layers of clay modeled by the 
thumb, without too much softening. 

For the figure in the round, that is without background, the revolving- 
top stand should be used. Upon this build up the clay in a solid mass, 
keeping well within the dimensions decided upon for your figure, and 
indicating roughly its general proportions and contour. From this point 
the modeling is advanced as previously described, the difference being 
that the student works on all sides of the model. 

When the student stops work, he must make provision for keeping 
the clay from drying and becoming hard. For this purpose a cloth 
wrung out of water is wrapped around the work. It is also important to 
care for the tools. Wash the tools that have been in use, also the sponge 
and the basin, and return the unused clay to the box. 

In working in wax no damping is required and the model when com¬ 
pleted may be preserved without further attention. The wax should be 
slightly warm. It should be built up bit by bit and pressed down, just 
as in clay modeling. The large forms on the model should be made first, 
then the details. If the wax becomes hard, soften it by placing it near 
the fire. 


PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF THE 

HOME 



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d 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 

\ • 

OPINIONS OF ELLA WHEELER WILL ON, TIIURLOW WEED , 
HENRY GEORGE , RICHARD HENRY STODDARD , EDMUND 
CLARENCE ST ED MAN , SENA TOR THOMAS PLATT 

E lla Wheeler Wilcox is one of the best qualified women in America 
to speak on the subject of marriage. Of the disadvantages of 
early marriage for both men and women, she says: — 

(< I think there is more danger of disaster in early marriages than in 
those contracted at full maturity. The youthful choice is likely to be Lin- 
wise. The man whom a girl thinks she loves at seventeen would rarely 
appeal to her so strongly if she were twenty-five, and the girl whom a 
young man of twenty-one believes he would like to marry would proba¬ 
bly not be his selection if he were thirty. A knowledge of the world 
before marriage is conducive to contentment afterward. The most un¬ 
fortunate unions I have known were formed while the husband and wife 
were still in early youth. The man, when he assLimes the responsibility 
of matrimony before he has reached maturity, has had little or no expe¬ 
rience in the typical bachelor life, and its attractions are likely to seem 
much greater to him than if he has already tested them. The wife who 
was married very early also feels the temptation to taste of life beyond 
the prosaic domestic circle, although usually in less degree than the 
man. She has not experienced enough of ball-room and summer-resort 
flattery, to have wearied of it and to have become cognizant of its empti¬ 
ness. There seems to her to be a gayety in life which she, whose youth 
has been devoted to home dLities, has never known, with the result that 
she, as well as her husband, becomes restless. Unless there are strong 
ties and will-power to keep a husband and wife, who are in this mental 
condition, to the road which leads away from this temporary unrest, they 
may stray into bypaths which lead to dissatisfaction and ultimate 
misery. ® 

Thurlow Weed, editor, politician, and maker of presidents, was wont 
to attribute much of his success in life to his early marriage, and to the 
fact that he made his wife his confidante and adviser at every stage in his 
career. He was married before reaching his majority to Catherine 
Ostrander, of Cooperstown, N. Y., after a romantic courtship and a 
four years’ engagement, the story of which is told in the autobiography 
which he gave to the world in his old age. 

<( Her parents, w he writes, <( doubted, not without reason, the propri¬ 
ety of confiding the welfare and happiness of their daughter to a com- 


\ 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 


parative stranger, with unsettled and roving habits. We communed 
together on the subject, and mutually agreed to hold no intercourse, 
either by word or letter, for two or three years, when, if her mind was 
unchanged, she was to write to me. I immediately left Cooperstown, and 
neither saw her nor heard from her for more than three years, when a 
letter came informing me that time had made no change in her affec¬ 
tions, to which I replied in similar terms. We married without regard 
to any of the prudential considerations which restrained many then, and 
which restrain many more now, from contracting a similar tie. I had, 
when the ceremony was over, just money enough to take my wife to 
Albany, where, with good health, strong hands and hopeful hearts, we 
both went earnestly to work to earn our living. The value of our 
household goods did not exceed two hundred dollars. I am indebted to 
this fortunate marriage for as much happiness as usually falls to the lot 
of man, and very largely for whatever of personal success and pecun- 
" iary prosperity I have since enjoyed. My wife more than assumed half 
our labors, cares, and responsibilities. But for her industry, frugality, 
and good management, I must have been shipwrecked during the first 
fifteen years of trial. When from our changed circumstances and con¬ 
ditions it was no longer necessary for her to pursue her laborious habits, 
she insisted upon performing many duties ordinarily transferred to serv¬ 
ants. Economy, order, and a well-regulated system in household affairs, 
were virtues which I did not possess, and their presence in her saved us 
from disaster. ® 

/ 

Henry George was married when very poor, at the age of twenty- 
two, and the woman who thus elected to share his lot played a large and 
helpful part in shaping the career which gave him a unique and extraor¬ 
dinary place in the affairs of his time. He worked his way from the 
East around Cape Horn to the Pacific Coast, and after a luckless hunt 
for gold found employment at his trade as a journeyman printer in 
San Francisco. It was then that he met and fell in love with the 
woman who became his wife. Speaking of their courtship he said to 
the writer not long before his untimely death: — 

<( She was a California girl of Australian birth, an orphan and a Cath¬ 
olic, while I was an Episcopalian. I was deeply in love with her, and 
my love was returned. I got into trouble with her relatives, trouble 
for which, as I see it now, I was entirely to blame, and I concluded to 
make her my wife and end it. That was in 1861. She was eighteen 
and I four years her senior. I was very poor, but she said she was 
willing to begin life with me regardless of our poverty. I borrowed 
some clothes to be married in, and from a landlady I knew got credit for 
two weeks’ board for myself and wife. No license was required in those 
days, or there might have been a delay in the ceremony. I raised five 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 233 

dollars to pay for a carriage, and in this we drove to a preacher’s house 
and were married. The wedding ring was my wife’s grandmother’s. 
The ceremony over, we had supper at a restaurant, and then drove to 
the place where I had arranged for board. I was now a married man, 
with a wife who believed in me and was willing to do her part. I got up 
early the morning after our marriage and went out to look for employ¬ 
ment. I secured a place to set type on the San Francisco ( Evening 
Bulletin/ and was at work at six o’clock. ” 

Then followed years of poverty and struggle, but through them all 
the young wife proved equal to every emergency, every hardship. Some¬ 
times husband, wife, and agrowing brood of children, lived on fifty cents 
a day, but they never ran in debt. And when George became an edi¬ 
tor and writer, and a student of political and social questions, his wife 
stood behind him to cheer him on the way. Save for her unfailing and 
hopeful sympathy and support, (( Progress and Poverty,” and the books 
which followed it, might never have been written. No act of Henry 
George’s busy, heroic career was wiser or more pregnant for good than 
his early marriage on <( nothing a week.” 

Richard Henry Stoddard, now the dean of American poets, is a firm 
believer in the wisdom of early marriages. He speaks from happy ex¬ 
perience. A native of Hingham, Massachusetts, he passed his childhood 
in New York, and in his early teens was apprenticed to an iron molder. 
During his leisure hours he wrote constantly and read steadily, for he 
had been born with a passionate love for song, and in 1848, when he was 
twenty-three years old, he gave to the public his first volume of verse. 
A few magazines pleasantly noticed the book, and one copy of it was 
sold. There being no call for the remainder of the edition, it was 
committed to the flames. The young poet, encouraged by this success, 
saw no impropriety in becoming the husband of a young lady of Matta- 
poisett. Elizabeth Barstow was her name. The tie that bound them 
was a common love of books. The penniless poet and the shipbuilder’s 
daughter were made one by the Rev. Ralph Hoyt, an amiable clergy¬ 
man who (< found it easier to marry the poet than to praise his verses.” 
Then the husband, leaving off work in the foundry, took to the pen 
for a living; and he has since contributed much to American literature. 
During upward of fifty years he has turned his hands and mind to 
many things, doing all of them well, and in the discharge of each fresh 
task his wife, who also has several novels to her credit in the publisher’s 
lists, has been his keenest and kindliest critic. What their union has 
brought to him, is reflected in the verses which have given this author an 
abiding place among the makers of American song. 

Edmund Clarence Stedman, Stoddard’s long-time friend and fellow- 
poet, is another firm believer in the wisdom of early marriages. He 


234 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 


was married, when a country editor of twenty, to a woman fitted in 
every way to be the comrade of a poet; and the fact that he had a 
wife and children to work for lent a resolute earnestness to his early 
struggles to win success and recognition as an author and man of 
affairs. 

General Lew.Wallace had but recently begun the practice of law 
when he married Susan Elston, a girl of spirit and culture, and settled 
with her at Covington, an unpromising little village on the banks of the 
Wabash River, in Indiana. Their support depended upon such fees as 
fell in the way of a struggling young lawyer. Then came the Civil War, 
and Wallace was one of the first to offer his services to the government. 
Throughout the four years of fighting, the young wife was with her hus¬ 
band in the field whenever it was possible. When the war ended, they 
settled in Crawfordsville, and set up housekeeping in a tiny cottage on 
one of the retired streets of the town. In this modest home, “The Fair 
God }> came into being, a work upon which the author was engaged at ir¬ 
regular intervals for ten years. It quickly attracted attention, and was an 
entire success. During the time that elapsed from the beginning to the 
conclusion of the work, Mrs. Wallace had cherished a firm belief in her 
husband’s ability and ultimate recognition as a writer of power. When 
some one, not oversupplied with tact, expressed surprise that he could 
have written a book so strong and original, the wife replied quietly: “I 
have known it all these years.® Their friends declare there is no doubt 
that a great deal of his success has been due to this assured faith in his 
ability, which has never failed him. 

When Thomas C. Platt was a young druggist in Owego, New York, 
having still his way to make in the world, he married Ellen L. Bar- 
stow, and he declares, after the lapse of fifty years, that this union was 
the wisest and most helpful act of his life. Good luck followed him from 
the day of his marriage. His business ventures prospered; he worked 
his way upward in politics, and paved the way to a commanding position 
and great influence in the councils of his party. No small part of 
his success was due to his wife’s sagacity and intuition. She came in 
time to know as much about the political history of the country as her 
husband, and in hot political campaigns she often gave him advice that 
proved to be wiser than that of some of the party leaders. She had all 
of his tact and shrewdness, and understood as thoroughly as he how to 
keep silent at the proper time, when to say anything, and what to say 
when she had occasion to say it. And so, until her untimely death, 
Senator Platt, alike in the days of his early triumph, in the hour of his 
temporary gloom, and in the long-continued period of his later success, 
was constantly attended, cheered, encouraged, applauded, and aided by 
his wife. 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 


2 35 


William S. Oakman is justly counted one of the most successful rail¬ 
way managers of the period, and it is well known to his friends that an 
early and fortunate marriage had much to do with shaping his career. 
Thirty odd years ago he was a station agent upon a small railway passing 
through his native town in central New York. While thus employed, 
he fell in love with a very beautiful young woman, the daughter of one 
of the most eminent men of his time. She was a quiet, home-loving 
maiden, who had no fondness for fashionable life and cared not to avail 
herself of the opportunity which the distinction of her father and uncle 
would have brought her. Her uncle had been twice governor of New 
York and once the candidate of his party for the presidency. Her father 
ruled his party in New York State, and was long one of its leaders in 
the federal Senate. The young woman, however, had given her heart 
to the obscure railway employee, and when his position was a little 
bettered she was married to him, but her father was not at the wedding. 
A few days afterward a famous senator met her father and congratu¬ 
lated him upon the marriage, adding that his daughter’s husband was 
sure to make a place for himself, mentioning Oakman by name. “Sir,® 
said Roscoe Conkling, for he was the father of the bride, <( I know not 
the man.® However, had Roscoe Conkling lived long enough, he must 
have felt that his daughter’s intuitions were better than his own. Oak¬ 
man, as the sequel proved, was a silent, persevering man, as sturdy as 
his name might indicate, and with a resolute ambition to be spoken of 
other than as “ Mr. Conkling’s son-in-law.® Backed by his wife’s love 
and unfailing cheer, he worked his'way steadily upward, each fresh test 
revealing a capacity to meet it. Before he was forty he had won the 
battle and made a name for himself, and for a dozen years past he has 
been at the head of one or another great railway property. 

Dwight L. Moody had lately given up business to become a mission¬ 
ary worker when, at the age of twenty-five, he married Emma C. 
Revell, who from that day on was his sympathetic and helpful comrade. 
They first met in a mission Sunday School in Chicago, where she taught 
and where Mr. Moody was offered a class if he would gather it himself. 
The next Sunday he appeared with eighteen ragged urchins whom he 
had collected from the streets. He next rented a vacant saloon, and 
soon had two hundred assembled in it for Sunday School and mission 
work. From this beginning rapidly grew a school having six hundred 
and fifty scholars, taught by sixty teachers. The year after his marriage 
a church was built for his converts and he became its pastor. There 
followed a few more years of preparation, and then the work was begun 
Which gave him world-wide fame. His wife’s part in that work lives in 
the hearts of unnumbered thousands, and at every stage of his ever- 
widening career of usefulness, her refinement and consecrated Christian 


2 3 6 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 


life were to him as a very tower of strength. When, in the inquiry room, 
Mr, Moody had a particularly stubborn disbeliever, one that baffled his 
skill, and who could match him with arguments and would refuse to be 
convinced by any appeal that he advanced, the evangelist would quietly 
excuse himself and in a few moments return with a lady having gentle 
manners and a winning voice. He was, indeed, a hardened sinner, who 
was not won after a few minutes’ conversation. Mrs. Moody did not 
argue with him, but presented the beauty of the new life in such per¬ 
suasive terms that the man considered it not only a duty to become a 
Christian, but a great privilege as well. In this she was not playing a 
part, but exemplifying the life of Him who went about doing good. 
That Mr. Moody was enabled to do a work greater than that of Wesley 
was due in no small measure to the wife of his youth. 

Jean Francois Millet was married before the end of his struggling 
student days to a woman sprung from the same sturdy peasant stock as 
himself. One day he overheard a stranger remark that he was nothing 
but a painter of the nude. This remark wounded him to the quick. It 
also fixed in his mind an instant but firm resolve to <( follow nature, in 
the open air, under the heavens, and touch the earth. * He hastened 
home to tell his wife what he had heard and what he wished to do. 
<( When I get to the ground I shall be free,” said he, and his wife ear¬ 
nestly seconded his plans. With two hundred dollars as the total of their 
worldly possessions they left Paris and settled in the peasant village of 
Barbizon, where the husband began to paint the humble life of which he 
had been a part in his youth. The full and splendid measure of his ulti¬ 
mate success is familiar to every student of modern painting, but in the 
first days he was often reduced to serious straits by the exigency of the 
bread and butter question. Even after he had painted his greatest pic¬ 
tures, he was still in poverty. Yet his strong soul did not fail; nor did that 
of his stout-hearted wife, who never lost faith in her husband’s gifts, or 
failed to cheer him on the way. His pictures have taken their place 
among the masterpieces of art, yet had it not been for his wife he might 
never have had the courage to follow his bent, but might have remained 
a painter of the nude till the end of his days. 

George Inness was another painter who could justly ascribe much of 
his fame and well-being to the woman to whom he was married at the 
beginning of his career. His power to catch and preserve the beauties 
of nature has placed him among the great landscape painters of all 
time, but he did not care especially for what is known as popular ap¬ 
proval, nor was he ever influenced by the lust for money. It was his 
wife who took care of the commercial side of his life, and saved him 
from the consequences of what we are sometimes pleased to term the ec¬ 
centricities of genius. She gave him, at the same time, a sympathy and 


DOES EARLY MARRIAGE HELP OR HINDER? 


237 


an appreciative companionship without which his extraordinary talents 
might never have reached full expression. His biographer (and there 
could be no more fascinating subject than the career of Inness) will be 
sure to give his wife’s influence a foremost place among the forces 
which shaped his life. 

When Collis P. Huntington arrived at manhood, he had saved money 
enough to buy a horse and wagon and a small stock of dress goods and 
fancy notions. With these he traveled through Connecticut, putting up 
at night with some farmer and paying his bill in trade. One night he 
stopped with a farmer in Cornwall named Stoddard. The farmer’s eldest 
daughter was a comely girl, by nature domestic in her habits, a good 
housekeeper, and an excellent cook. She also possessed a clear business 
intellect. It did not take young Huntington long to discover these 
qualities, and he captured the prize that many a young man had sought to 
win. Soon they were married, and not long afterward the husband had a 
fine span of horses and a handsome peddler’s wagon. By his marriage 
the foundation of his immense fortune was laid. Through all of his 
varied experiences, from a country merchant to a railroad king, he was 
aided by his wife’s quick intuition, and blessed with her loving encour¬ 
agement. 

No man owes more to an early marriage than does John G. Carlisle, 
the farmer speaker, senator, and cabinet minister. He was a teacher in 
the public schools of Covington, Kentucky, and had barely obtained his 
majority when he wooed and won his wife. Two years afterward he was 
admitted to the bar, and a year later began his public career in the state 
legislature. During his whole political life his wife, Mary J. Goodson, 
a woman of rare intelligence and sagacity, proved as much of a helpmeet 
to him in her way as did Mrs. John A. Logan to her warrior husband. 
When he was first a candidate for the speakership, a friend asked Mrs. 
Carlisle what she thought of her husband’s chances. <( Did you ever 
know John to fail in anything he undertook ? ® was the spirited reply. 
There are few men who would not be spurred to success by confidence 
of the sort implied in these words. 

Brigadier-general Henry C. Merriam, U. S. A., commander of the 
Departments of the Colorado and Missouri, says: (< If a young man’s 
and young woman’s principles and manner of living approximate the 
same standards; if he is able to support her comfortably, and she 
is willing to do her share, that is, to make an attractive home for him. 
I don’t think that youth will be the slightest bar to their happiness. In¬ 
deed, the sooner such a young couple is married the better. She will be 
a help to him in the attainment of success, an assistance to him in his 
work, and a joy to him in his domestic life. She will brighten his home 
and give him courage. }) Judge Owen E. Lefevre says: <( The young 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


238 

wife is a moral ballast, and her intuition far outweighs her young hus¬ 
band’s judgment. The ambition of the young wife for worldly advance¬ 
ment is usually greater than that of her husband. A young man is kept 
moving forward by the spur of his wife’s desires for their advancement. 
In my judgment a man marrying late in life cannot, as a rule, attain as 
great an elevation of character and self-respect as that of the man who 
marries early in life.® 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED TO SHAPE THEIR 

HUSBANDS’ CAREERS 

MRS. ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON , FRAU COS IMA WAGNER , MRS. 
RUSSELL A. ALGER , MRS. ANNA OTTENDORFER , LADY 
SALISBURY , MRS. CARTER HARRISON AND COUNTESS 

TOLSTOI AS EXAMPLES 



I 


t is a goodly company of clever, wifely women who are 
mentioned in the following pages. The part that 
such women have played in helping to make their 
husbands successful or great will always be one of' the 
most fascinating topics, for in few others is there so much 
of romance and inspiration. There are three ways by 
which a woman may help to make her husband a success: 
by influencing him, by directing and guarding him,— so 
that he may be at his best mentally and physically, —and 
by actual partnership in his work. 

One of the most conspicuous examples of a wife who 
has helped to make her husband famous, by doing a part 
mrs. russell a, alger of his literary and artistic work, is Mrs. Ernest Seton- 
Thompson, and, for the part she has played, it might be said, with 
justice, that her name should appear with that of her husband in his 
best-known books. 

It is not that Ernest Seton-Thompson would not have succeeded had 
he been quite alone. But, the fact is, that, in a large measure, the 
charm of his books is due to the clever wife who, as soon as the publica¬ 
tion of the first was arranged, took upon herself the task of being his 
editor and bookmaker. Out of what would probably have been but an 
ordinary success, she made a book that caused authors, artists, printers, 
and pressmen to rub their eyes and wonder. It was a volume that had 
to be looked over carefully. Thus it was that Ernest Seton-Thompson, 
previously an anatomical artist only, won general popularity. 












WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


239 


Mrs. Seton-Thompson said that when she was married in Paris, some 
six or seven years ago, she <( gave up her literary ambition.® She said 
it, however, with a smile upon her lips. It was only a very brief time 
after her marriage that this ambition seemed in a fair way to be realized 
at once. Her husband’s story, (< Lobo,” had been printed in <( Scribner’s 
Magazine. w His technical skill as an artist and his ability in writing 
were widely known. It was proposed that he make up a book of just 
such stories as <( Lobo. }> 

<( Wild Animals I Have Known ® grew out of this commission. From 
the very first moment of its planning, it was Mrs. Seton-Thompson’s 
work quite as well as his. Though the publishers, seeing an inexperi¬ 
enced woman before them, questioned the wisdom of her judgment, this 
wife never stopped in her work. She took her husband’s manuscripts 
and drawings, and planned the book’s form and size. She designed the 
cover, and chose the paper on which it was to be printed. She outlined, 
to the chief of every department it passed through, her idea of just 
what its appearance should be. She suggested and saw carried out the 
(< marginals )} that plentifully besprinkled every page,— the little mar¬ 
ginal sketches that so delighted the public when it saw them,— actually 
designing many of them herself, in the rough, and getting Seton- 
Thompson to perfect the whimsical, artistic ideas. 

One of the most remarkable women in the world is Frau Cosima 
Wagner. That we owe to her much of that stupendous structure of 
musical composition which Wagner left as a legacy to future ages, is a 
fact not only generally known in Germany, but conceded by himself. 
But for her untiring energy and perseverance, the (< Parsifalwould 
never have been written. He pointed out to her what was in his mind 
if he only had a plant to demonstrate it, and absolute quiet and solitude 
in which to record the mighty composition surging in his brain. Prom¬ 
ising him the plant, she shut him in and protected him from the eager 
w r orld’s intrusion during the period of its composition. 

Meantime, with the assistance of her father, Franz Liszt, she per¬ 
suaded King Ludwig of Bavaria to build, equip, and endow, the mag¬ 
nificent temple of music drama at Beirut. By the time the great 
(< Parsifal ® was completed, the opera house was finished, the scenery 
painted, the vocalists selected, and the orchestra and chorus were ready 
to interpret the master. One must regard Frau Wagner’s as perhaps 
the most extraordinary case on record. Even as the wife of Hans von 
Billow, she fell in love with Wagner before meeting him, solely from her 
love of his operas, and she named her four children after his characters. 
When at last they met, he succumbed at once to the love for him of this 
marvelous woman. She left her husband at once to become his secre¬ 
tary, and remained with him. Von Biilow, seeing he had lost his wife 


240 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


and children forever, gave her absolute divorce. From the time of her 
marriage with Wagner, she became his executive, his secretary, and his 
passionately devoted wife, relieving him of every care and labor except 
musical composition, to which he was enabled to give all his time. But for 
this wonderful episode in his life, it is evident that the immense musical 
composition he left would not have been half completed. Since his 
death, in 1885, she has carried on his musical enterprises every midsum¬ 
mer at Beirut, drawing ground her in the warmest months, in a small 
town, with poor accommodations (it has greatly improved in accommo¬ 
dations since 1900), music-lovers from all parts of the world, making a 
great financial success, and refusing tempting offers to transplant her tem¬ 
ple to more favored localities. Not until the emperor has consulted with 
her, is official music announced for the government opera houses, and 
she is known everywhere as the (< greatest woman of Germany.” Her 
father, Liszt, was known as the (< homeliest man in Germany,” a title 
which has also been applied to the daughter. Tall, angular, and 
long-necked, she is a living demonstration of the saying that (< beauty is 
only skin deep,” and a protest against the part that beauty has played in 
the world and in embroiling nations and mankind in war. 

Russell A. Alger came out of the Civil War at thirty with the rank of 
a brigadier-general, but with only a few hundred dollars at his command. 
This sum he lost in a brick-making venture at Detroit. He then turned 
his attention to the lumber business, soon to discover, however, that 
there was no way to succeed but to go out in the woods and conduct his 

lumbering in person. (< I had some gentlemen to back me with money,” 

* 

said he, <( and the first year I walked a hundred and fifty miles through 
the woods, with a pack on my back, to select the timber. My wife also 
proved equal to the emergency, and went with me into the woods. Our 
house, that winter, was a little log cabin, a hundred miles away from the 
railroad, and Mrs. Alger did her own cooking, rising at four o’clock in the 
morning to prepare my breakfast. It was thus that I got my start, 
and half of the credit for it belongs to my wife.” 

Rowland Robinson began life as a wood-engraver, in New York. 
The experiment was not successful, and at forty he returned to the home 
of his boyhood and took up the life of a Vermont farmer. Encouraged 
and inspired by his wife, he wrote an article on fox-hunting, and offered 
it to <( Scribner’s Magazine.” It was accepted, as were others, and ere 
long he found himself a welcome contributor to the leading periodicals 
of the period. A new career seemed opening before him, when his eyes 
began to fail, and the fading light finally left him in total darkness. 
Aided by his wife, however, he conquered this obstacle. He learned to 
write by means of a grooved board which enabled him to guide and space 
the lines, and his wife afterward revised the manuscript, and prepared 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


241 


it for the press. Robinson lost his sight in 1887, and he lived until the 
end of 1900. During the intervening years, he wrote and published a 
dozen volumes, which have taken rank among the best Nature books 
produced in America. This would have been impossible without the aid 
of his wife. 

The New York <( Staats-Zeitung }) is an eloquent and enduring monu¬ 
ment to a wife who had the will and the wit to help her husband. Mrs. 
Anna Ottendorfer came to this country from Bavaria when she was 
twenty-one years old. She was then the wife of Jacques Uhl, a printer. 
The husband worked as a journeyman for eight years, being assisted 
in his struggles by his faithful and prudent wife. At the end of that 
time, by industry and strict economy, they had saved money enough to 
buy a printing outfit to commence business for themselves in Frank¬ 
fort Street, New York. That was in 1844, when German printers were 
scarcer than now, and the job-printing office flourished from the start. 
Near the Uhls was the <( Staats-Zeitung,” a weekly organ of uncertain 
sound. Mrs. Uhl, with an eye to the future, saw that the acorn, that 
could then be bought for a song, would be sure to grow into a power¬ 
ful oak. Uhl was more conservative than his wife, and declared that it 
would be better to confine themselves to job-printing. Her advice, 
however, at length prevailed, and together they bought the struggling 
weekly and moved it to their own office, soon after enlarging the sheet 
and improving its appearance. Success was evident from that time. 
German emigration was increasing rapidly, and Mrs. Uhl proposed to 
bring out the newspaper daily. The husband, believing in his wife’s 
sagacity, put her idea into execution. He died in 1852, and Mrs. Uhl 
became the chief editor and manager. For seven years she directed the 
course of the newspaper, editorially and financially, carrying it safely 
through a hot presidential campaign and the panic of 1857. Two years 
later she married Oswald Ottendorfer, who was on the editorial staff at 
the time, and to him she assigned the chief editorship. She continued, 
however, to take an active part in the business management, even 
until her death, when she was nearing three-score years and ten. No 
decisive step was ever taken without her direction and consent, and she 
knew exactly where the paper stood, from day to day, long after its 
assets mounted into hundreds of thousands. Had it not been for her, 
the <( Staats-Zeitung w would have had but a brief existence, and that 
great German organ would never have attained the phenomenal propor¬ 
tions it has to-day. 

Alexander T. Stewart, the prince of American merchants in his time, 
owed much to his wife. Men in New York, who know much about their 
early start, of their first efforts to climb the long ladder to fortune and pros¬ 
perity, know that it was Mrs. Stewart’s taste in color, prudence in invest- 

1—16 


242 WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 

ment, and forecasting of the coming fashions, that gave to the great firm its 
prestige, and aided it in its ongoing toward a plane of universal recognition 
as the leading house on the continent. Many visitors, familiar with the in¬ 
terior of Stewart’s great establishment, can recall the slight, lady-like 
figure of the wife of the head of the firm, often seen there, going about, 
unpretentious, from department to department, from counter to counter, 
from clerk to clerk, inquiring here, listening there, and attentive every¬ 
where. Stewart’s store had precedence of his house, and as he lived, so 
lived his wife. Together they planned and worked, and the great mer¬ 
chant was prompt to admit that much of his exceptional good fortune 
was due to the woman who gave him, not her hand alone, but, with it, 
her head, well stored with mother wit and much good sense. 

A woman played a large part in laying the foundations of the for¬ 
tunes of the house of Vanderbilt. The first Cornelius Vanderbilt mar¬ 
ried at the age of twenty, and a year later became captain of a small 
steamboat plying between New York and New Brunswick, New Jersey. 
Passengers were numerous and many persons went to New Brunswick 
and back by boat, for the pleasure of the trip. Others, when the boat 
reached New Brunswick, got into stages and were driven across New 
Jersey to another steamer which took them down the Delaware. Of 
course, they wanted something to eat, and here Mrs. Vanderbilt saw her 
opportunity. New Brunswick’s hotel, or half-way house, was dirty and 
ill-kept. Mrs. Vanderbilt suggested to her husband that they should 
take the hotel, refit it, and run it in a style that would attract guests. 
Vanderbilt leased the hotel; but, as the scheme was his wife’s, he told 
her she might run it and have the profits. Mrs. Vanderbilt overhauled 
the house and named it Bellona Hall, after the steamship <( Bellona,” 
which her husband then commanded. The fame of Bellona Hall soon 
spread to New York, and parties were made up to visit it, because of the 
excellent fare to be found there. It also increased the profits of the 
line for which Captain Vanderbilt worked, and his salary was increased 
to two thousand dollars a year. Mrs. Vanderbilt for twelve years 
managed Bellona Hall, with profit to herself and pleasure to her guests. 
Her husband, during these years, had been studying steamships and the 
chances for profit in traffic on the Hudson and along the Sound. His 
means were limited, but he had. valuable ideas gained from practical ex¬ 
perience as a steamboat captain, and he felt sure that if he could get the 
right opening, he need not fear the. greater wealth of his rivals. He 
never had questioned his wife’s management of the hotel, but he knew 
she had saved some money. His^opportunity came in 1829. He had a 
chance to get a controlling interest in a steamship for eighteen thousand 
dollars. He had saved ten thousand dollars, but he did not know where 
to raise the balance. He told his wife about the steamship, and 


1 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


243 


explained his plans for making money if he could get it. (< I need eight . 
thousand dollars more, and I don’t know where to get it,” said he. (< I 
will give it to you,” replied Mrs. Vanderbilt, and, to her husband’s sur¬ 
prise, she brought the money to him. She had saved it from the profits 
of the hotel. Vanderbilt bought his boat. Money and more ships came 
rapidly, after that, — so rapidly that, when the Civil War broke out, he 
was able to present to the nation one of his boats, worth eight hundred 
thousand dollars, and yet feel easy about his finances and his fleet. 
When he was seventy, he was credited with a fortune of many millions. 

Victorien Sardou, the French dramatist, acquired great wealth, 
and it was his wife who opened the way to his first success. Sar¬ 
dou. began the study of medicine in his youth, but his father drifted into 
financial difficulties, and the son had to give up his studies to help the 
family treasury by teaching philosophy and mathematics. He also 
wrote trifles for the smaller Paris newspapers. Then he turned to writ¬ 
ing plays. After many ’prentice efforts he wrote <( The Student’s Tav¬ 
ern,” and found a manager who accepted and produced it. It was a 
failure, and its author’s discouragement was bitter. For three years 
Sardou lived in a garret, seeking to keep life together upon a three-sous 
Dreakfast and a six-sous dinner. Exposure and privation brought on a 
dangerous attack of typhoid fever. A kindly neighbor, Mademoiselle de 
Brecourt, upon whom he had no claim whatever, nursed him through 
his illness. By and by, after he got well, he married her. A little 
later, he induced Paul Feval to collaborate with him in writing a histor^ 
ical drama, which did not succeed, although Feval made a good novel out 
of the plot. For some time after this second disappointment, Sardou’s 
poverty was as great as before; but, in what seemed his darkest hour, 
his fortune began to change for the better. His wife was a bosom 
friend of Mademoiselle Dejazet, who opened for him the doors of the 
theater that still bears her name. <( Candide ” and (< Les Premieres 
Armes de Figaro ” were given successively at the Theater Dejazet, and 
Sardou’s ability as a dramatist was recognized. 

The story of the marriage of Lord Salisbury, England’s present prime 
minister, makes romance of the best sort. He had just entered parlia¬ 
ment when he fell in love with Georgina Alderson, the daughter of a 
barrister who had risen to be a judge. She was bright and clever, 
and comely to look upon, but neither of the lovers had any means, 
and Lord Robert Cecil’s father bitterly opposed the union. But 
they were wedded, in 1857, and the first years of their married life 
were passed in comparative poverty and obscurity. They lived in mod¬ 
est lodgings in London, and the husband had to eke out a living by his 
pen, contributing diligently, in the intervals of his parliamentary labors, 
to the newspapers and reviews. There is a legend of Fleet Street that 


244 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


credits the young wife with helping him as an amanuensis in his literary 
labors, at the same time that she was bringing up a large family. Their 
struggles, terminated at the end of eight years, when, b»y the death of his 
elder brother, Lord Robert Cecil became Viscount Cranborne and heir 
to the title and estate of the Marquis of Salisbury. 

Perhaps no living man owes more to his wife than does the great 
Russian writer and reformer, Count Leo Tolstoi. Countess Tolstoi at¬ 
tends to all of her husband’s business affairs and has done so for many 
years. There was a time when the count, in obedience to his socio¬ 
religious convictions, wanted to give all of his property to the peasants. 
The laws would not let him do this, and so he handed it over to his wife, 
who has since managed it with cleverness, economy, and good sense. 
She has, at the same time, been his devoted assistant in his literary work. 
For years she copied, again and again, everything that he wrote. The 
completed story of (< War and Peace,® comprising several hundred thou¬ 
sand words, was copied by her no less than seven times for revision and 
re-revision, before it was brought into the state in which it went to the 
printers. 

The late John A. Logan used to declare that all he was in life he 
owed to his wife, and surely no man ever had a better one. She was 
with him in the army, and in political campaigns she was always at his 
side. She had more intellect and political sagacity than her husband, 
and an abundance of tact. She was ever his ablest adjutant, and to her 
efforts was due most of his political success. She supplied all that he 
lacked, and without her he would not have won the fame and influence that 
came to him. She acted as a brake upon his fiery and impetuous nature, 
and more than once saved him from what would have proved a fatal 
blunder. It was decided, during the presidential campaign in 1884, that 
both Blaine and Logan should visit Cincinnati and participate in a great 
political rally. Blaine arrived early in the afternoon of the appointed 
day, and was accorded an ovation. General and Mrs. Logan, traveling 
by a different route, reached Cincinnati later in the day, and for some 
unexplained reason there was no one at the station to meet them. They 
drove to a hotel, and the general, in hot anger at the slight put upon 
him, summoned a reporter for a Democratic newspaper, to whom he de¬ 
livered himself of a violent attack upon Blaine and those responsible for 
the neglect to which he had been subjected. He proceeded in this 
strain for some time, Mrs. Logan occasionally interrupting him with such 
exclamations as (( Now don’t say that, dear. This young man is a re¬ 
porter; » or, <( That would sound very badly in print, General. You 
must be careful of your language. w ; 

The general, however, was not disposed to be careful. He said he 
had been outrageously treated, and he hoped that the reporter would 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


245 


print every word he had uttered. At last the latter rose to go. He had 
the material for a sensational article, the effect of which would be felt 
from Maine to California, and he .was anxious to get back to the office 
and begin work upon it. As he left the room, a hand was laid upon his 
shoulder, and, turning, he beheld Mrs. Logan. 

<( The general has been very indiscreet,® she began; <( he naturally 
is outraged at the treatment he has received, and he is too honest to con¬ 
ceal it. But this is not the proper time to make it public. You will* 
promise me, will you not, that you will say nothing about it ? }> 

There was a world of tenderness in the lady’s tones, and her hand¬ 
some face plainly showed the emotion under which she was laboring. 
The reporter, however, protested. The general, he said, had given his 
permission that all he had said might be published; he would betray no 
confidence in publishing it, and he did not think Mrs. Logan ought to ask 
this sacrifice of him. Mrs. Logan replied that she understood his feel¬ 
ings perfectly. 

<( We have been in public life for a great many years,® she continued. 
(< In Washington, many of our warmest friends are among the repre¬ 
sentatives of the great metropolitan dailies. I know that the publication 
of this interview would create a sensation, but that is precisely what I 
desire to avoid. Some day it may come my way to make a great sacri¬ 
fice for you. You have my positive assurance that I will do this when 
you call upon me. Will you grant my request ? w 

The newspaper man was touched by the lady’s evident distress and 
gallantly gave the required promise, which he faithfully kept. Thus, 
did Mrs. Logan prove her wifely devotion, and save her husband from 
the consequences of his own folly. <( She was a wiser man than her hus¬ 
band, ® added the reporter, in relating the incident to the writer. 

In Chicago’s recent mayoralty campaign and election, Carter H. Har¬ 
rison, a democrat and the successful candidate, was opposed by Judge 
Elbridge Hanecy, a republican. Judge Hanecy made a splendid fight. 
His campaign was a marvel to many who thought they knew what it 
was for men to work day and night, to deliver three, four, five or 
eight speeches a day for weeks and weeks. Not only did Judge Hanecy 
do all this, but he came to his last mass meeting, on the evening before 
election, with his voice still strong, his courage undiminished and with his 
physical condition excellent. 

Mrs. Elbridge Hanecy, the wife of the judge, played a silent part in 
that compaign, as she has in all his life as a lawyer and as one of the 
most respected members of the bench. 

<( During the spring campaign, )} she relates, (( I lived over the inci¬ 
dents of each da}^ with my husband, when he returned late at night. 
Luncheon was ready for him, whenever he opened the door at night 


246 


WIVES WHO HAVE HELPED THEIR HUSBANDS 


after a hard day’s work, and, while he ate, I would read letters to him, 
and together we would talk over the developments. 

<( Everything about the campaign was of interest to me. I was in it 
because my husband was. I answered letters and telegrams for him 
and almost all of the house telephone calls were answered by me. I never 
troubled him unless it was urgent, for I was generally well-enough in¬ 
formed about the situation to conduct the telephone part of it satisfac¬ 
torily. All the newspaper clippings were collected by me, and I 
arranged them so that he could save as much time as possible. 

<( But, after all, the best help a woman gives her husband is in her 
doing her part in the home. It is there that I have sought to be of most 
use. It is there, in my belief, that a husband ought to get relief from 
the cares of his business life. I never talk over his work in the court¬ 
room unless he chooses to briefly take up some incident. I have never 
been inside my husband’s court-room. ” 

The wife of Chicago’s mayor (1901), is known as one of the most at¬ 
tractive women, socially, in all the West. Of medium stature, and rather 
slight in figure, she is graceful in the ball-room, in the theater-box, and 
on the street. In her home, she is gentle and always thoughtful of the 
rights which the public thinks it has to her husband’s time. 

In her grasp of political situations, she has developed rapidly, during 
the three successive campaigns which Carter H. Harrison has success¬ 
fully made for the mayoralty. When the newspapers have criticized 
him, she has felt the cut first and most keenly. And yet, through it all, 
she has spurred him on, and, even now, she will not say that he has risen 
to all the honors to which he is entitled. 

<( I help my husband in every way that I can,” said this wife of the 
thrice-elected mayor, (< and I am sure that I am of value to him in many 
of the big things he has to do, and I am certain that I also help him in 
the smaller affairs. He has confidence in me, and we discuss many of 
the questions which come into his administration. 

<( A woman’s intuition is always of benefit to a man, in the decision 
of questions where right and wrong enter. In weighing matters, often¬ 
times I have been able to feel that my suggestions helped to straighten 
out questions he was debating in his mind. Then, too, it may be that I 
have had something to do with his entering upon certain campaigns. 
Once in them, I know that I not only have thrown no obstacle in his 
way, but I have aided him all the while. 

(< When Mr. Harrison first became mayor, I carried out an idea, which 
I may have borrowed from him, that we should have a few fixed rules at 
home, just as he had a system for transacting business down at the office. 
One of my rules is that he must leave official business at the office. 
Politics is tabooed at our dinner table. I insisted upon this for his own 


GIRLS —NOW AND THEN 


2-17 


benefit, and I am satisfied it was a wise provision. Another of my rules 
is that he must not conduct business over the telephone, from the house, 
unless the matter is very urgent. It was my suggestion, too, that he set 
aside a certain hour of the day for his conference with the newspaper 
men, and that he be given his evenings free from interviewing. 

(< A woman will either help or hinder her husband in the work he may 
set out for himself to do. The smoothing over of little worries that 
come to a husband is a part of a wife’s duties. She must be in sympa¬ 
thy with her husband and his work, and help him, because she is in 
sympathy and anxious for his success, or she will retard him in all his 
efforts. ® 



GIRLS —NOW AND THEN 

By REBECCA HARDING DAVIS 

% 

I t is not an easy thing to write something about women that will inter¬ 
est women, for Woman, as a topic, has been so dissected, turned 
over, glorified, and dragged through the mud, during the last forty 
years, that there is not a single new word left to say about her. 

I think I will try to sketch her as she was in the beginning of the 
century just past, and as she is now. The two pictures, will, perhaps, 
show us what she has lost and gained in that time. The Advanced 
New Girl will, of course, tell us that the change in her is all gain. She 
is fond of holding up the old-fashioned Domestic Woman to public con¬ 
tempt as an ignorant, simpering idiot, whose only errand in life was to 
capture a husband, to make puddings, and to nurse babies. However, it 


248 


GIRLS —NOW AND THEN 


does not seem to me that she has spoken the final word on this sub¬ 
ject. 

Look at my pictures a moment. They shall be photographs of real 
women belonging to the same family. This family was of that tough 
North of Ireland stock, which in the middle of the seventeenth century 
took possession of middle Virginia and Pennsylvania. 

This Scotch-Irish emigrant was as sound in body as in morals; he 
loved his own kinsfolk passionately but distrusted all other human be¬ 
ings; he had made for himself, and served faithfully, a cruel, angry God 
who meant to torture eternally all of his creatures except a few choice 
favorites, the majority of whom were, of course, Scotch-Irish. He was 
a hard worker, faithful to his wife, children, and friends, but making life 
a burden to them by his incessant disputes and habit of complaining. 

Such was the ancestor of the millions of self-respecting Americans 
who lifted the Middle States to prosperity. 

This Scotch-Irish progenitor affected our national character quite as 
much as did the Puritan in New England or the Cavalier in the South. 
But he never has had the credit of doing it, because he was not given to 
self-analysis, and hence has never talked of himself in song or story. 

The first incomers of this race were, as a rule, thrifty farmers who 
brought money with them. Land was cheap; indeed, many of the 
younger men were surveyors who worked for the government in the 
wilderness as did Washington, and, like him, were paid by enormous 
blocks of wilderness land. Thus their children inherited estates often sur¬ 
passing in extent and in beauty of scenery the great seigneuries of France. 

Most of these early landholders built homes very different from the 
flimsy wooden dwellings of the first settlers in New England and in the 
Carolinas. Some of them are still standing, huge, square mansions of 
gray, uncut stone, whose wide halls and gigantic fireplaces speak of afflu¬ 
ence and a lavish hospitality. Take, for instance, the house of Winifred 
Saxe, the woman of whom I mean to tell you. It is still standing 
among the hills of western Pennsylvania. In it you may see the 
enormous cellars lined with closed bins in which the flour, potatoes, and 
fruits for the whole establishment were stored. For, remember, out¬ 
side of the plantation in these earliest days, there was only the wilder¬ 
ness. No butchers, nor grocers; no shops, no markets. The plantation 
supported itself and yielded all the meats, grains, and vegetables, used in 
the house. All linen and woolen stuffs, from the sheets and blankets 
to the baby’s socks, were grown, spun, woven, and sewed, under the 
eye of John Saxe’s wife. 

Tradition has much to say about Winifred Saxe. We hear of one or 
two men who, when she married, took to drink and died wretched sots; 
and of another who also found life worthless without her, and threw 


GIRLS —NOW AND THEN 


24') 


himself into the Ohio, and so made a cleaner and shorter end of it. 
There are stories of the singular influence which she had over her hus¬ 
band and sons, and every man who came near her; even old Khasuke 
and the few remaining Indians of his tribe who lingered in the hills, 
served her gladly, and took orders or scoldings from her in silence. She 
had not unusual beauty. Many of her descendants have peculiar, large, 
dark eyes, watchful and sympathetic, which they claim to have inherited 
from her. There is, too, a silhouette of her in existence which shows a 
delicately cut face, full of tenderness and humor. 

Certain women in all ages have had an unaccountable charm, a mag¬ 
netism which did not come from a beautiful person or face. Mrs. Saxe 
probably was one of these. In an old letter her brother says: (< Winifred 
has the voice of a cooing dove, but on occasion she shows the temper of a 
lioness. }> 

Her own family and the Saxes were the leaders, the dominant mi¬ 
nority, in a large territory with its population of white settlers and In¬ 
dians. The girl, as much as Victoria, was born to the belief that she 
belonged to a ruling class. She was a little mild woman, but she always 
bore herself with a certain quiet consciousness of power. 

She had assuredly a wider authority than falls to the lot of the mod¬ 
ern woman. To begin with, she had eleven children of her own, and 
two or three orphans who never knew that they were not her own. The 
house was large and the hearts of John and Winifred Saxe were big and 
warm. 

There was an army of farm-hands who were fed in the kitchen. 
The house-servants were slaves, both black and white, for Pennsylvania 
was not then a free state. The white slaves were emigrants who were 
brought here free of cost and sold by the ship’s captains in Philadelphia 
until they had worked out their passage. John Saxe crossed the moun¬ 
tains once in two years and usually brought home some of these (< Re- 
demptionists . n Mrs. Saxe always had two, three, or four (< bond-girls, w 
the daughters of poor white settlers. She took them when children 
and kept them until they were of age, instructing them in weaving, 
sewing, and cooking, teaching them to read, write and cipher; to fear 
God and keep His commandments. They served her, and she ruled 
them as a faithful mistress. It was a pure patriarchal relation. As 
time passed, these girls were settled all over the countryside, the wives 
of farmers, with children and homes of their own, which they governed 
by Madam Saxe’s rules. Whenever there was a wedding, a funeral, or 
even an entertainment at the great house, they hurried to her to give 
her their loving and skilful help. 

Over this large tribe of dependents, she was absolute director and 
ruler. She superintended the schooling of the boys, the weaving, the 


2 5° 


GIRLS —NOW AND THEN 


spinning and sewing, the cooking, the curing of meats, the putting up 
of the enormous stores for winter use. She had her supplies of herbs 
and healing ointments, and was both doctor and nurse in time of illness. 
More than this: she held these people as her own children, she governed 
their lives, mothered them with keen insight and much tenderness, but 
with dogmatic authority. It was the natural relation in that unsettled 
time of the educated woman to her dependent clan. But think of the 
practical knowledge, the tact, the nervous energy, required for such a 
life-work. It was the work given in a greater or less degree 1o the 
women of that age, of whom the modern girl, whose best work in life 
probably has been a water-color sketch, or an essay on Browning, speaks 
with contemptuous pity. 

What education had she ? 

None, according to our ideas. Her only books were the Bible, and 
<( Pilgrim’s Progress. ® But she knew them by heart. Her language in 
her talk or letters was modeled on their wonderful English. All of her 
thoughts were based on their thoughts. She knew nothing of philoso¬ 
phy or law. She never had read a novel or a play or a scientific book. 

But she talked apart every day with Isaiah and with David; she went 
through life and met death with John and Jesus Christ. Her company 
surely was not ignoble. As for her knowledge — she knew men and 
women. It never occurred to her to paint a picture or to make apolitical 
speech or to dabble in science. Her errand into the world she knew 
well was to drag up human lives to higher levels, especially those of 
John Saxe and her children; to keep their bodies and souls clean and 
strong. There was her skill and her business. 

She brought all of her force to bear on this single work, her religious 
faith, her tact, her experience, even her personal charm; she summoned 
God to help her. She was a strong uplifting power to her children and 
to the people about her. When she died it was like the drying up of a 
great rushing stream. The water is gone, but there is a wide space in 
the world forever the greener because the stream passed that way. 

Mrs. Saxe has many descendants living. Jane Lapp, who is one of 
them, boasts that <( the family is made up of brainy, up-to-date men and 
women.® Jane herself is professor of social science in one of our 
colleges for women. She is a past mistress of that subject, is as familiar 
with its unclean winding ways as with its broad thoroughfares. She is a 
compactly built little woman, sharp and decisive in her walk, and nod, 
and voice, a favorite lecturer in women’s clubs in New York. She is 
not married; so far as I know she never had a lover or was in love. She 
dwells in a region too high for such carnalities. 

Gwendolen Lapp, her sister, is studying art in Paris. Every year or 
two we hear of a great masterpiece which she has painted and which is 


GIRLS—NOW AND THEN 


2 5 1 


going to be hung on t'he line at the Salon. But it never is hung. Mean¬ 
while, Gwendolen becomes more and more enfranchised every year. 
She has been by turns Theosophist, Contist, Agnostic, Buddhist,— but 
never Christian. She also, it is said, changes her husband or affinity as 
often as her religion. Jane alludes to her vaguely as <( a wandering 
star )} <( scintillant with genius, w when people ask: <( What is Gwen, about 
now ?But she never invites her to Blank College, nor goes to Paris 
when she is on the Continent. 

Gwendolen has no children. 

The Perotts also are granddaughters of Winifred Saxe. They are 
married to the leading men in our largest inland city. Susan is the wife 

of Faunce, controller of the-Trust. She is president of a dozen 

literary and benevolent women’s clubs. She is a keen-witted, eager 
woman, with a manner of great simplicity and charm. She thinks that 
her influence is wide and potent, that she has played her part in the Boer 
War, in Manila, and in the election of the president. In fact she has 
but one talent — that of meddling in the lives of her neighbors. She 
patronizes all religions as a concession to the weakness of human nature, 
but at heart believes in none. 

She had one child, which, as it was a girl, she declared was a blunder, 
and gave to her mother, who is putting the poor stupid little creature 
through kindergartens and cramming schools. 

Susan’s sister Phoebe is the wife of a high official in Washington. 
She probably is one of the best types of an American woman of Society, 
quiet, low-voiced, with unerring tact and quick, keen sympathies. She 
was educated in Europe and has her adoring friends in many countries. 
As it happens, she holds her court in New York, in Carlton Terrace, or 
by the Arno or the Grand Canal. 

She inherits, perhaps, more of Winifred Saxe’s magnetism and hot- 
blooded sympathies than does any of her other descendants. But what 
does she know of farm-hands or cooks or bond girls, or of catechisms or 
creeds? The Bible, she says, is picturesque but obsolete. Her kingdom 
is Society, and she throws all of her strong mind and stronger affections 
into her control of it. A house, husband, and children, would only be 
weights and impediments in her way. Her husband for many years has 
followed his own pursuits and left her entirely free. She never has al¬ 
lowed herself to be hampered by children. 

Another of Winifred Saxe’s descendants is a young girl who is an 
editor of a popular magazine. She is known as a brilliant essayist. 
She is pretty, magnetic, and has her entourage of lovers. But she laughs 
at marriage. 

(< Marry! Why should I ? )} she cries. (( I have comforts and luxuries 
galore for a bachelor girl. But my lovers are poor scrambling artists or 



THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 


252 

journalists. If I marry one of them I should soon be jailed in a stuffy 
Harlem flat, with a half-dozen mewling children. No, no! I know too 
well the value of money and freedom! w 

What is the difference then between Winifred Saxe and her grand¬ 
daughters ? 

They have gained knowledge, freedom, and standing places in the 
labor markets and courts of the world. 

What have they lost ? 


THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 

By J ULIA WA RD HO WE 

Y oung women are the greatest influence in the world 
to-day. It is sometimes said that women are what 
men make them. It is much truer, I think, to say 
that men are what women make them. The. best ele¬ 
ments of society are conserved in women. The world 
looks to women and depends upon them for its moral and 
spiritual advancement. I wish more girls would realize 
this great fact. But more are realizing it, I am happy 
to say, than in my youth. 

In my time, I have seen our sex advance in moral 
fiber and in dignity of thought. Their release from 
worn-out tradition as to the place of women has broad¬ 
ened their horizon and increased their ambition to live 
on high planes of intellectual and moral life. They are going up, and 
men are going up with them. One sex cannot advance alone; the prog¬ 
ress must be mutual. This is why I believe in coeducation. The 
sexes are an inspiration and a guard to each other. I am glad that our 
girls of to-day are athletic, for sound health means far greater happiness 
for themselves and those near and dear to them, and a stronger and 
better race in the twentieth century. To all girls I would say, If you 
want to feel joy in living, exercise in the open air as much as possible. 
Breathe deeply and inure yourselves to cold. 

I am thankful that home training is now being taught in public 
schools. There are vast potentialities of happiness in this movement. 
It will give added success and satisfaction to the married state, and, to 
specify a minor, but still important, matter, will go far toward solving 
the servant problem, by increasing respect for household work. One of 
the greatest regrets of my life has been that I have not been more of an 





THE HIGHEST TYPE OF GIRL 


253 


adept at housekeeping. Yet I, who have devoted myself chiefly to 
writing, lecturing, and traveling, have needed this knowledge less than 
most women. I have much respect for the woman who is proficient in 
household work. She does not make drudgery of it, she takes pride in 
her capability, and is a success,— considerably more of a success than 
the haughty lady who orders her servants about in imperious tones. The 
latter would not like to be told that her attitude is a relic of barbarism, 
and is rarely, if ever, seen in the best society; yet this is the truth. The 
woman who thinks it beneath her dignity to treat with tactful consider¬ 
ation those who are performing the duties of her household, gives un¬ 
mistakable evidence of crudeness and lack of all culture, except, perhaps, 
a mere surface glaze, which is usually most transparent to those whom 
she is most desirous of impressing. Such a woman may be able to 
simulate elegance and polish, but she has really very bad manners. 

In this matter of manners, we have not advanced during the last 
half century. We Americans do not give to manners the attention they 
deserve. Abroad, we are acquiring the reputation of being the best 
dressed people in the world, but about our manners, which are even 
more important than dress, there is often a polite but significant silence. 
Our educational system should take more account of deportment, which, 
in large measure, is expressive of what we represent. The social atmos¬ 
phere is warmed by the enthusiasm of youth. We admire and even envy 
the overflowing vitality of the healthy girl. But when the outpouring 
of this enthusiasm and vitality becomes forgetful of the feelings and 
opinions of others, the line between good manners and bad is crossed. 
Young women who are fond of outdoor sports, who can do as well as 
men numerous things that in the past men alone did, and women who 
are successfully competing with men in the business or the profes¬ 
sional world, exult in the power and freedom which their mothers did 
not have. This is excellent, but these progressive women are in dan¬ 
ger of offending good manners, by giving their exultation and their own 
personalities too great an emphasis. Some of them feel that their sturdy 
work is too engrossing to give them time for the delicate amenities 
and little niceties of social life, that in my youth were held in such 
high esteem. This view of manners is not that of the majority of 
women, but it has sufficient prevalence to have caused a deterioration 
in politeness since the days when I went to school. Young women are 
less reserved than they used to be. They should remember that re¬ 
serve is a power in life as in literature. It is possible to be frank, yet 
keep something in reserve. 

Good manners are not a mere matter of form. It is, of course, es¬ 
sential that there be some standard of deportment, but the garment of 
formal politeness is easily assumed, and may conceal depravity. True 


254 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


politeness, the kind that cannot be counterfeited, finds its source in a 
good heart; sincerity is its chief element. To be polite in the true sense, 
one must be well-mannered in thought and feeling. If a mother brings 
her children up to be self-respecting, sincere, and considerate of others^ 
she need not drill them much in the external forms of politeness. She 
may rest assured that they will have innate good breeding, which is a 
key to some of the world’s storehouses of success and happiness. 

The freedom, or even laxity, of manners, which I have seen develop 
in young people during the last few years, is but a reaction against the 
old stiffness and formality of society. Already this reaction is beginning 
to wear itself out and the pendulum of American womanhood to swing 
evenly and smoothly. The new influences and opportunities which have 
come into the lives of our women during the period of my observation 
have resulted in a state of affairs which partakes somewhat of the cha¬ 
otic; but, out of the chaos, order is being born, and out of the stimula¬ 
ting new conditions will come the representative twentieth-century 
American girl, who will be, I think, the highest type of girl the world 
has yet seen. 



IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 

By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX , MRS. EDWIN MARKHAM, JENNY 
JUNE CROLT, MRS. ELIZABETH B. CUSTER , CHARLOTTE 
PERKINS GILMAN , LILLIE DEVEREUX BLAKE , 

BELY A A. LOCKWOOD, DR. FRANCES A. 

DICKINSON, AND OTHERS 

I n the articles and interviews given below, many women 
of prominence, in various departments of feminine 
activity, answer the question: What would you do if 
you were a girl again ? The perusal of their responses 
cannot fail to be both interesting and instructive to 
young women who are trying to decide what they will 
make of themselves and how they will get about it. 
Many hints will be found in them for avoiding errors and 
wasteful expenditure of misdirected energy, and for profit¬ 
ing by the opportunities which girls now enjoy to an ex¬ 
tent which their mothers hardly dreamed would ever be 
realized. 



JENNY JUNE CROLY 




IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


2 55 


THE VIEW OF A FEMININE PHILOSOPHER 

<( Should some great Angel say to me to-morrow: 

( Thou must re-tread life’s pathway from the start, 

But God will give, in pity for thy sorrow, 

Some one dear wish, the nearest to thy heart 0 
This were my wish. From my life’s dim beginning 
Let be what has been! wisdom planned the whole, 

My want, my woe, my sorrow, and my sinning, 

All, all, were needed lessons for my soul.” 

Surely no person exists who would not do some things differently 
were he to live over his life again. No one reaches high noon who does 
not look back and see how much more wisely some early morning hour 
might have been employed. 

I recall many hours, which, according to my present view, seem mis¬ 
spent in my girlhood; hours which if used in the study of lan¬ 
guages, with only a grammar or dictionary at hand, would have "enabled 
me to read and translate half a dozen foreign tongues to-day. 

Yet, I am not prepared to say that the time I used frivolously, or 
foolishly, was not of greater benefit to the development of my character 
than those studies would have been. So long as we discover the unwis¬ 
dom of any one course of procedure, we are making progress even when 
we feel that we have lost time. 

<( We do not always win the race 
By only running right. 

Some feet must tread the mountain *base 
Before they reach its height.” 

In my early girlhood I deemed it a great misfortune that I lived far 
from the centers of life and fashion, on a Wisconsin prairie, and that I 
was denied the pleasures and advantages which I felt I was fitted by na¬ 
ture to enjoy. I know to-day that it was the very best thing for me. It 
caused me to find out my own powers, and to use them. 

Since so many things which in my youth I thought all wrong, have 
proved in the long run to be all right and for the best, I can but believe 
everything must be so. 

My profession chose me at an early age, and I am grateful to it for 
the pleasure it has given me, the inspiration it still bestows. Sometimes 
I think what a fine bank account might be mine had I begun with my 
first earning to lay aside pennies and nickels for a savings bank. 
But how can I declare that I might not have acquired, in that way, a 
mania for riches, which is always accompanied by parsimony and 


256 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


meanness ? Since I have escaped that great disaster, why should I be so 
unphilosophical as to regret the coppers I used freely and often foolishly? 
Why should I wish to go back and avoid the places where I stumbled 
and received bruises, since the hurt gave me more sympathy for my 
fellow-pilgrims and a better understanding of the difficulties in life’s 
journey? 

I am glad I cannot go back. In the knowing that many things I 
have done were unwise, a benefit is obtained that prevents me from wish¬ 
ing to do so. Going on is much more interesting. 

Let be what has been; wisdom ruled the whole. 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 


ADVICE FROM A THINKER 

You ask what I would do differently if I were a girl again, and knew 
all I now know. Would I choose any other work or approach it in any 
other way ? And you want to know why ? So that those girls who 
are now trying to succeed may profit by my suggestions. Yes, that is 
reasonable. And you ask .those already successful, meaning by that, 
recognized. 

On that point I can give some very solid advice, resting on experi¬ 
ence. 

If you want to be recognized,— known for what you are,— just be it. 
Be sure you are it, first, and then keep right on being it, hard, and in 
due time you will be recognized as surely as a tack that is stepped on 
in the dark. The tack needed no introduction; it simply was a tack and 
remained so without apology or concealment. Train the faculties you 
intend using, be ready to work, and opportunity will come. This policy 
I pursued as a girl and in the light of forty years’ experience I see no 
reason to change it. It is natural for a young human creature to want 
to be great, and any one can be great who is willing to grow. We can 
help ourselves to grow, but must not hurry too fast. 

The only line of conduct pursued in girlhood which I now consider 
injudicious, lay in a too lavish expenditure of nerve force, and on that 
point I may give useful warning. 

It is all very well to hitch one’s wagon to a star, but one need not 
select the most lofty and remote; and once hitched, one need not whip so 
hard. It does not hurry the star any, and is exhausting to the driver. 

The force of will in healthy young humans is great, the ambitions 
are pure and high, but they are too apt to pour out strength like water, 
in strenuous attempts at development. As to choosing work, there are 
two good rules, and I followed both. One is, <( Do what you can do best, 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


257 


and therefore like best.” The other, is <( Do what most needs to be 
done. ” 

Steady faithfulness to one’s own profession tells best in the end; but 
in the meantime there are many openings of many kinds, and it is better 
to do anything than to do nothing. A cordial taking of chances, meet¬ 
ing opportunity half-way, will open expected doors in solid walls. If I 
were sixteen again I would not alter the general direction of my work at 
all, but I would modify my speed considerably. The principal error of 
those years was in a too violent and continuous effort. 

Nerve force is capital. Use the interest carefully, saving some to 
increase the principal for your heirs; but never break into that principal 
unless some issue of life and death compels. The world needs helping 
and we all want to help it; but the best service is in a lifetime’s strong 
and steady work, rather than in a few years of feverish struggles. As 
to professional success, I adopted one line, as a girl, and follow it still. 

Continually do your work, your own natural work, and wait until it is 
wanted. If it is not wanted, never mind; keep on doing it. 

— Charlotte Perkins Gilman. 


A POETIC RETROSPECT 

It is futile to assert at the end of a game of whist that if one had led 
another suit, at this or that critical point, the result would have been 
thus, or so. A different play by any player would doubtless have called 
forth a different response by the others following the rigor of the game, 
and the outcome of the new permutations would again have been past 
guessing. 

So, when a woman has come to forty years., she cannot declare that any 
past act of omission or commission would have compelled any certain 
fate, or assured any positive meed of happiness. 

Few heroines of achievement, indeed, from Audrey to Portia, even 
if offered the fairy-tale re-trial of life, would exchange their own 
past — the light and shade and color, that make their identity in the 
universe — for any other set of experiences, however roseate and golden. 

Yet there is endless fascination in turning one’s face again toward 
youth and in rebuilding one’s life in the iris atmosphere of fancy. To 
be back again when life went a-Maying with Nature, Hope, and Poesy,— 
to have once more the eager, believing heart of youth, and yet to hold 
one’s knowledge gained from the years, from the salt and the shine of 
the tear,— this were indeed the <( paradise enow,” the <( very heaven,” 
of the poets. 

1—17 


25 s 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


Perhaps to be both young and wise is to be of the order of seraphs, 
and perhaps this frost and fire of spirit is what awaits one when he 
awakens, a blessed ghost, in the land where time has ceased. 

Should I, if a girl once more, with my woman’s wisdom added to my 
maiden inclinations, select again the vocation that was my early choice ? 

To only a few women is it given to choose their work. Generally one 
has to take the task at hand and adapt herself to it. Happy if she have 
the gracious nature of our little sister, the water, and can fit herself to 
her environment. 

When I was a girl, in a wild little mining camp in the Sierra Nevadas, 
there seemed nothing at hand for me to do but teaching. So I drifted 
into school work, and later specialized my deferred college course along 
educational and literary lines and went on teaching, lecturing, and writ¬ 
ing text-books. 

Of course, I realize that any work well done, from washing linen, with 
Nausicaa and Ramona, to discovering stars with Caroline Herschel, or 
Dorothea Klumpke, is equally honorable and necessary in the economy 
of the universe. Yet one may have preferences and aptitudes. I loved 
the work I was doing, always, and it is beautiful, mothering work to 
care for children’s souls as the <( concerned ” teacher does. It is solemn 
work, too, to stand as a providence for the fitting of the house of the 
spirit, at this mysterious threshold of life where, as with the Faithful at 
Mecca, every deed counts sevenfold. 

But fine as a life of teaching is, to my mind there is a more de¬ 
lightful service and one as beneficent to the world, in the creative work 
of the artist, toiling with his sweet sounds, or his shifting lines and colors, 
or his obedient clay, or his winged words. 

So if I had had the ear of the Destinies, and their favor, I should have 
prayed at any time of the past, as now, that it be given me to be a 
writer along some of the higher lines of literature; to try to pass on for 
the possible light or comfort of others some measure of the meaning of 
life that flashes to me from the faces of men and women, or the grasses 
of the field, or the galaxies of the skies. —Mrs. Edwin Markham. 


MRS. BLAKE WOULD AGAIN CHAMPION HER SEX 

I was not more than twelve years old when, with some other girls, I 
formed a small club and we each took a motto as a sort of indication of 
what we wished to achieve in life. Some of the sentiments were roman¬ 
tic, some of them were benevolent. The inscription on my shield was (< I 
Will Live to Redress the Wrongs of My Sex.” At the time I knew not 
what this meant, that is in any broad scope. Brought up in most con- 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


2 59 


servative surroundings, the faint echoes of the <( Woman’s Rights Move¬ 
ment, 0 as it was called, reached me only vaguely. With the disapproval 
of my family, and almost without any idea of how to proceed, I resolved 
to do what I might to remove the unjust restrictions under which women 
suffered. 

And now you ask whether I would again take up this same line of 
effort if I were once more listening to the bees. 

If I could be a new little girl, a fresh incarnation, and if in the world 
wherein I stood there was any injustice to my sex I should feel the same 
indignation as I now do at all these discriminations and restrictions. 
Perhaps then, conditions having grown better for women, I might be 
able from a more powerful position to carry on a wider work than has 
been possible in the cramped conditions of my own time. 

— Lillie Devereux Blake. 


OUR MODERN PORTIA WOULD MARRY LATER 

If I were a girl again I would not marry quite so young as at eight¬ 
een, but would marry, of course, and-would study law and graduate be¬ 
fore my marriage. I would practise too. Nothing broadens the mind 
more than a few years of sharp law practice. It convinces one of the 
important truth, that every case has two sides. I have been from my 
early childhood a student, and I believe that much of the happiness of 
my life has been derived from pursuing certain lines of thought in nat¬ 
ural history, in mental phenomena, and in moral science. Until many 
years after my girlhood, and the taking of my first college degree, there 
was no opportunity for a woman to study law. Such a thing as a law 
course for a young woman was hardly to be seriously thought of before 
the earlv ’seventies. — Belva A. Lockwood. 

Mrs. Theodore Perry Shonts, of Chicago, daughter of former Gov¬ 
ernor Drake, of Iowa, and vice-president of the Chicago Woman’s Ath¬ 
letic Club, writes: — 

(< I believe in a thorough education for girls, an education along the 
general lines laid down in school and college curriculums, and, if I were 
a girl again I would seek such a course. My aim would be to de¬ 
velop into a warm-hearted woman, ready to do whatever good in the 
world I could. I believe in an education that will give a solid foun¬ 
dation for the graces of life. In an oak we see a strong trunk to up¬ 
hold the branches, to make the whole symmetrical. So with a woman, 
a good strong foundation is safer to build upon than a weaker basis. 
If the accomplishments which enable one to grace the drawing-room, to 


260 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


be interesting, entertaining, and useful, are to come later, it will be 
found that the walls beneath them are steady and true. 

<( I attended Wellesley College when I was a girl and would do the 
same again. I believe in the study of languages and of music, and in 
travel, as sources of development. An all-round education is of just as 
much benefit to a society woman as to a business woman, for with such an 
education, a woman is equipped for any emergency in life. A girl should 
be trained to develop the best in her, physically, intellectually, and spirit¬ 
ually, and she should be taught to be thoughtful of others, to live unself¬ 
ishly and for the good of others. 

Mrs. Catherine Waugh McCulloch, one of the women lawyers in Chi¬ 
cago, and who has been identified with large public movements said: — * 

<( If I had the opportunity to begin life over again, I should again 
choose the law, secure the best possible preparation, and concentrate my 
energies on my chosen profession. I am grateful that no obstacle was 
thrown in my way by my parents; grateful that the Union College of Law 
was open to women, and that in Illinois, sex was no longer a disqualifica¬ 
tion for a woman’s admission to the bar. 

<( After securing the education I desired, having begun over again, 
should I then be indifferent to the needs of other girls I should deserve 
to have taken from me that which I had. 

<( Every girl ought to have the chance to prepare herself for the calling 
she chooses to enter. We who have found the way should do what we 
can to open the avenues for other ambitious and earnest girls.® 

Mrs. Pauline Palmer, the well-known artist, said: — 

<( If I were a girl again, I would study art harder than ever. I was 
educated in a convent, but I think if I had my life to live over again, I 
would prefer the high school and college, for it is my belief that an artist 
should be well educated. A convent education fits one for home-life but 
the life of an artist is different. My especial aim would be to paint.” 

Dr. Frances Dickinson, head of the Harvey Medical School, said: — 

<( Looking upon life as a growth, I would again seek a medical training. 
It gives a woman resources and a breadth that is of use to her all her life, 
whether she practises or not. If she marries, and is a mother, she under¬ 
stands the child-nature better. 

(< If I had my life to live over, I would like to take the kindergarten 
training and would advise all young men to marry girls having taken such 
a course. To a woman physician, the kindergarten training would be of 
inestimable value in treating children and in determining what the child 
needs. In preparing for a medical career, the experience and training of 
a nurse would be of value. Beneath it all there should be a good educa¬ 
tion, which might be carried to whatever extent is expedient in individual 
cases. General reading, even during and after the medical course has been 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


261 


taken up, will accomplish much that is generally left to the school-room. 
The woman who will become successful in a professional career will se¬ 
cure these advantages somehow. My aim would always be to make the 
best of opportunities which might come to me.® 

Miss Catherine Goggin’s name is well known in the West. She was 
the first president of the Teachers’ Federation, which comprises thou¬ 
sands of members and which is considered a formidable organization by 
city officials, members of the board of education, and the state legislature. 
It was she who carried the fight in behalf of the teachers to the legisla¬ 
ture to demand increased appropriations for the schools so that the 
teachers might be paid higher salaries; who secured pension provisions, 
and many other important measures for the women — and a few men — 
whom she represented. 

<( Were I a girl again, ® says she, <( I would make a lawyer of myself. 
I should want an education along intellectual and practical lines, but one 
that would mean a sound body as well as a sound mind. My special aim 
would be to assist in developing the impersonal among my own sex so 
that women might go into work outside of home without feeling person¬ 
ally hurt or flattered at whatever happens. I would like to assist women 
in overcoming that feeling of personality, that consciousness of the fact 
that they are women though they be in the business or the professional 
fields of activity. It is, as matters now stand, a hindrance in accomplish¬ 
ing the best results. Besides, I would aim to develop a self-control that 
would make my work easier and more effective, and this I would advise 
every other woman seeking an outside career to strive after.® 

Mrs. Robert Hall Wiles, Illinois state regent of the Daughters of 
the American Revolution, said:— 

<( I would try to become a healthy, well-educated, well-bred, sincere, 
tactful, and kindly woman. Vigorous health is by all odds the first thing 
to be sought; and, secondly, a thorough all-round education. 

(< I would seek, by all means, a college education, with special attention 
to world history and literature and a sufficient amount of mathematics 
and language to give severe mental discipline. Art or music should be 
thoroughly studied if one has a talent for either. I think both should be 
made optional in a college curriculum. I do not mention domestic science 
because with a well-trained mind that can be easily acquired when needed. 

<( I would aim to make my home happy for every member of the fam¬ 
ily and the center of gracious hospitality for relatives and friends, young 
and old. Of course this would be after a completion of a college course. 
If a girl marries she has her life-work as a home maker, with philanthropic 
and educational work as incidental to an unselfish life. If she does not 
marry she may well make such work her purpose outside of her home. 
If she longs for a ( career,> though I should discourage it, I should place 


262 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


no obstacle in her way. Every girl has an inherent right to individual¬ 
ity and independence.- With the good foundation which the education I 
have outlined for myself will supply, the sincere, earnest girl will find 
herself prepared for what may come to her throughout her life. ® 

Mrs. George W. Kendrick, president of the Alumnae Association of 
the Girls’ High School in Philadelphia, said:— 

(< Were I a girl again, I would be a teacher. Teaching is the ideal 
work for women; women are the ideal teachers. Too often they are un¬ 
fairly handicapped in the race with men in this work; but nothing has 

gone so far to place them on an equality with men as the scholarships 

awarded in the colleges and universities. 

(< At Bryn Mawr College this year, the girls who led the van in the 

senior, junior, and freshmen classes, were graduates of the high school 

who had received scholarships. 

<( When I was a girl there was no higher education obtainable for those 
who desired to become teachers. Indeed, the prevailing tendency was to 
begin such work with the observation— ( I’ll teach until I get married . ) 
While higher education and teaching, nowadays, are not incompatible 
with, or antagonistic to, matrimony, they give the possessor of knowledge 
a chance to look before she leaps. To say the least, they give her a foot¬ 
ing equal to man’s. And they give her a wage-earning power impossible 
of attainment a few short years ago.” 

Mrs. Caroline Earle White, president of the Pennsylvania Woman’s 
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, thus gives her views 
on the question: — 

<( While not wishing to depreciate the value of intellectual development, 
the noticeable results of physical training impress me deeply as I look 
backward. When I was a girl it was not at all the thing to take interest 

in athletics — indeed, it was quite the fashion to be thin and languid. 

To-day, women, whether they do or do not enjoy the advantage of a col¬ 
lege course, profit by both indoor and outdoor exercises that tend to make 
them hale and strong. 

<( If I were a girl again, I would take such active exercise. I feel sure 
I would have made myself better able to carry out the work that has al¬ 
ways been dear to me. I find that many of the younger women who are 
taking an interest in our society do so from their association, in outdoor 
life, with dumb animals. 

(< The woman of this year is the woman of the years that are past; but 

she is stronger and healthier. And because she is stronger, she is wiser. 

And because she is wiser, she has a greater store of kindness for all about 
her, from the children who come to her to the dumb beasts about her. 
Qualities such as these I would seek very earnestly if I were the girl who 
is making of herself the woman of years to come, who shall be brave, and 
kind, and true, )> 


I 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


263 


I WOULD STUDY, I WOULD HAVE F U N, I WOULD 
LEARN TO BE A COOK, ETC. 


If I were a girl again, instead of bringing all my brain power to bear 
upon successful ways to elude lessons, I would study; and I am in¬ 
clined to think it would be with reference to some especial work. In 
this country, where marriage settlements are practically unknown, and 
fortunes are so transitory, women need all the preparation they can get 
to fit them for self-support. When I was a girl, teaching was the only 
avenue open to women. Now the field is wide; but when a woman 
succeeds, it is (< the survival of the fittest ® and means that she has been 
equipped for her work. A determined woman does learn in time to sup¬ 
port herself, when it becomes necessary, but she walks over red-hot plow¬ 
shares in the process of learning,— if there was no preparation in youth, 
when memory is good and it is easy to acquire information. 

If I were again a girl, I would lose no chance for fun and frolic, but 
at the same time I would be a musician, even though nature prevented 
me from being anything but a mediocre one; for the home life of a 
woman who sings or plays well enough to please her family or friends is 
vastly different from a house void of all music. 

I would be a cook, looking back as I do and seeing many homes 
often fairly kept together by the food that is supplied to the bread¬ 
winner. 

I would learn mental arithmetic, if I were again a girl, so that it 
would not be necessary to resort to one’s fingers to make calculations un¬ 
der th.e edge of the counter in a shop. 

I would know something of kindergartening and nursing, to pre¬ 
pare for God’s greatest gifts, wifehood and maternity. Remembering 
what a lifelong impression the first fiction selected for me made, I 
would be guided by my mother in the choice of novels. 

I would engage in outdoor sports, believing that it would secure 
me a more amiable and healthful future; and, as to the studies I regret 
neglecting, I think that if I were again a girl, I would try to apply my¬ 
self to classical literature, rhetoric, history, and French. 

This seems an outline of hard work, but I know that most girls, if but 
once convinced that they are to be the centers of families or circles of 
friends, to whose pleasure and comfort they will hourly contribute, 
would not consider it hard work at all. 


Elizabeth B. Custer. 


264 


IF I WERE A GIRL AGAIN 


A GIRL SHOULD KNOW ENOUGH TO PLACE A HIGHER 

VALUE UPON HER WOMANHOOD 

If it were possible to be again a girl, with the experiences of a 
woman, and one could put the usefulness of such a transformation into 
a single word, that word would be (< purpose ® to realize the value of the 
acquisition of knowledge,— of the training of every gift and faculty for 
usefulness and enjoyment; and to know how surely, if unconsciously, 
the agencies of death work through haste, precipitation, self-conceit, 
and the violence of appetite and passion; to recognize the law of growth, 
its gradual processes,— its unfailing results; to know that all we are, all 
we can become, must be accomplished under that unfailing law, more 
fixed and more imperative than any law of the Medes or Persians; to 
understand that we cannot reverse the engine, or force it to jump the 
track without disastrous consequences, one must have an enlightened 
mind and a definite aim. 

No! we know that we are to abide by our mistakes, and to use them as 
instrumentalities, not to shift the responsibility of them upon the shoul¬ 
ders of others. 

Irrespective of wifehood, or motherhood, we know that it is of the 
greatest importance that the woman should receive her highest acquired 
training before she is married; and, therefore, should not marry young; 
for marriage constitutes for most women arrested development, and, 
frequently, the merging of an immature judgment, and a somew r hat 
vague sense of foundation principles, in the judgment and ideas of an¬ 
other. 

Men continue the normal conditions of growth and development 
after marriage, through their more independent life, their associations 
in business with other men. Women are bound by domestic ties and 
duties,— by the pains and cares of motherhood, and by the social and 
merciful shrines of which they are the guardians. 

No, one cannot wish that the girl might know the end from the 
beginning; it would so appal her. But one might wish that she knew 
enough to place a higher value upon her own womanhood,— enough not 
to be in haste to be married, — and to value above all other things those 
opportunities for self-improvement which will increase her chances for 
usefulness, and, therefore, her happiness in the world. 

— Jenny June Croly. 


265 


MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN AND SUCCESSFUL 

ENDEAVOR 

By MARGARET E. SANGSTER 

F ew women are indifferent to the passing- away of their 
youth. From the past we have inherited a stock of 
prejudices, among which is one that has so strenu¬ 
ous a vitality that it is hard to overcome, namely, that 
a woman’s chief end is to be beautiful, attractive, and 
ornamental. When the bloom of girlhood, and the richer 
charm of that early maturity which is in its perfection 
at thirty, have faded, when women begin to see crow’s- 
feet crinkling the skin around their eyes, and lines deep¬ 
ening on their foreheads, most of them are aware of 
both sadness and protest. It is a difficult time for any 
woman, the transitional period between her youthful and 
her older life, and, whether she is married or single, 
in the depths of her soul, she equally feels its hardship. The matron 
who is also a mother, has, however, too many legitimate cares and 
solicitudes for others to waste much strength in dull repining. Her 
sons and daughters are growing up and she must renew her life in 
them. And in these days, the spinster has often her own independent 
career, filled to the brim with busy occupation, so that middle-age glides 
upon her before she is ready to acknowledge its presence. 

In the case of most women of middle-age, who have health and lei¬ 
sure, there opens a vista of most encouraging and stimulating possibilities. 
Even when the latter advantage, leisure, is lacking, the middle-aged 
woman whose health is firm, may put'her time and talents to good ac¬ 
count. It often happens that the time from forty to sixty or even to 
seventy years of age, is a season of serenity and almost unimpaired 
health to women who have lived in accordance with nature’s laws in 
their early days, so that these years may be exceedingly fruitful. 

Successful endeavor implies, at any age, resolution and energy. Self- 
sacrifice is an essential part of it, and attention to routine is indispensa¬ 
ble. Also, the woman who means to succeed must not be too scattering 
in what she attempts, nor spread her time over a half dozen studies and 
projects. (< This one thing I do,” must be her motto. She must con¬ 
centrate her efforts and give to herself the same intellectual discipline, 
that she accepted in girlhood from her teachers, remembering that, 





266 


MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN AND SUCCESSFUL ENDEAVOR 


though the outward may perish, the inward may be renewed day by 
day. She must set, for her own benefit, stated tasks, and insist upon 
their performance. As the little Puritan maid did her morning <( stint w 
before she was allowed to play, so must the great granddaughter of the 
Puritan, with a light frost whitening her brown hair, and experience 
enriching where hope once animated and spurred her on, be stern in her 
determination that for her as an individual, there shall be daily, regular, 
and conscientious work along some definite and elected line. 

The science of music is one of the best of these suggested lines of 
work, but it is a jealous and exacting mistress. Granting that one loves 
an instrument and has already acquired some technique, even if the 
fingers are stiff and the wrist wooden from lack of use, the middle-aged 
woman may score a very creditable success by persistent study. Her 
best plan is, usually, to seek a good instructor, and, in connection with 
two or three other students, not necessarily of her own age, to devote 
regular hours to practice, taking up, in connection with finger work, the 
study of harmony. A woman of fifty, last autumn, determined to de¬ 
vote the next six months to music. She revived her old quickness in 
sight-reading by devoting a half houf after breakfast to the careful in¬ 
spection of musical manuscript, to copying scores, and to reading operas 
and difficult studies. A neighbor, similarly inclined, came at ten o’clock, 
and played duets with her for an hour. At eleven, her German music 
master came, and, with him, two young cousins, one of whom played 
the mandolin, and the other the piano, and the next hour was devoted to 
intense and serious study. In the evening twilight, daily, this lady 
spent her last hour in the music-room, and her testimony, at the end of 
the winter, was that she had made more real progress, and had made 
more decided advances, than at any time in her youth when she had 
followed the same path. Others observed something in her playing 
of which she did not speak, and of which she was perhaps unconscious: 
a subtle phrasing, a deeper color, a truer feeling, a more intimate inter¬ 
pretation of the meaning of the composers whose melodies she essayed 
to repeat. She had gone to school to life, and life had taught her so 
much that it was worth while to know, that her music was thereby an 
infinite gainer. 

Some years ago, I had among my friends a very clever and keen¬ 
witted woman whose experience in adopting a business career was very 
gratifying. She had been drilled in the usual juvenile studies,— spelling, 
arithmetic, English grammar, and history,— in an old-fashioned school, 
in a thorough but old-fashioned way. The simplicity of the methods in 
vogue in this gentlewoman’s childhood would surprise the modern peda¬ 
gogue. Her education in the class-room had terminated when she left 
the grammar school at thirteen. At seventeen, she was married, and 


MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN AND SUCCESSFUL ENDEAVOR 


267 


with her young husband, for four years led a rambling and adventurous 
life, as the Civil War had begun, and her good man was in the cavalry 
under Lee. She followed his fortunes, living in Southern towns where 
she could sometimes see him, nursing the wounded in hospitals, and en¬ 
during the various hardships which Southern women gallantly encoun¬ 
tered in the storm of their secession days. At the close of the war her 
husband died, and she mourned for him and the lost cause together. 
Going North, she found a position in a business house where her skill in 
correspondence speedily gave her a large salary. She could write good 
English in a clear and direct manner. She was absolutely trustworthy, 
and the day of the typewriter had not dawned. Several years passed, 
i-n successful and highly-paid work, when she resigned her post to marry 
the captain of a merchant vessel. With him she visited far lands, spend¬ 
ing weeks and months on the salt water. Once she was in a mutiny; 
twice in wrecks. She knew Java and Borneo, China and India, and Japan, 
and thus her life drifted on, in a loneliness, except for love, which would 
have been to some women intolerable, yet diversified by many strange 
sights and new incidents; it was, all in all, a life full of vivid enjoyment 

and interest, so that when at last, her husband retired, and they took a 

» 

house, and began living on shore, as most people do all their days, my 
friend pined for variety. Mere housekeeping was a bore to her; she had 
for it neither taste nor training, and she had no children to make her feel 
that a home was a real need. <( We will board,• she decreed; and her 
husband amiably assented, giving a more reluctant consent, when he 
found that she, no longer young, but eager, alert, decisive in her move¬ 
ments, and charming in her manner, had made up her mind to go into 
business. She carried the day, and sought and found a place where she 
became the business manager of a corset manufactory, in which situation 
she remained, conducting the affairs of the house, with consummate abil¬ 
ity, for a decade. She kept in harness, in unbroken health, to the day 
of her sudden death, a woman who never grew old, never lost her zest 
in the day’s work, and was always equal to every demand upon her. 
Her kindred fancied that she toiled too unremittingly, but I think that 
she knew her own nature best. To serve the present age, even if the 
sword snap at last, is better than to fritter away one’s time in uncon¬ 
genial halfddleness, and rust out in the end. 

A career in literature is among the possibilities for middle-aged 
women, and I can best illustrate my point by a few examples. Who has 
heard Olive Thorne Miller talk of the birds, or who has read her delight¬ 
ful books, but has been drawn to the beautiful, large-hearted, white- 
haired woman, in most enthusiastic admiration. Mrs. Miller had 
brought up her family, a large one, and had sons in business and daugh¬ 
ters in college, when she began her painstaking study of our little 


268 


MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN AND SUCCESSFUL ENDEAVOR 


brothers of the air. We owe to her a great impetus in the study of the 
feathered folk as individuals; she has shown us that they are akin to our¬ 
selves in their loves and hates, and are capable of wisdom in their man¬ 
agement, of intelligent planning, and of an intense devotion to their 
bird kith and kin. Mrs. Miller’s success as an author and lecturer has 
been assured. She has had no rebuffs or setbacks, and she did not 
dream of any but a purely domestic life till she was middle-aged. 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr, a woman of genius, whose novels and romances 
form a goodly row on our shelves, and whose writing is singularly pure, 
clean, and wholesome, began her literary career after widowhood and the 
loss of dear children had refined her in the crucible of suffering. ’ Her 
finest success came to her after she had crossed the meridian. Mary 
Lowe Dickinson, a woman of superb mental endowments and great 
beauty of character and of person, also embarked definitely on a literary 
career, when youth was passed. There is a woman in an editorial chair 
in New York, who had her training when she had children to be edu¬ 
cated, and more than one woman has gained success in journalism after 
forty. Health, capacity, the power to work, not in spurts, but regularly, 
are all that are needed, granting original endowment, to make a middle- 
aged woman more successful than a younger one in this field. The 
serene face of Mrs. Candace Wheeler, her peculiarly womanly presence, 
her refined voice and the charm of what she has to say, must recur to all 
who have ever heard her lecture on art in needle-craft, in household 
decoration, or in the arrangement of the table, or the cultivation of the 
flower-garden. Mrs. Wheeler has possessed a magic to defy time’s en¬ 
croachments, the magic of congenial occupation, of continual study, and 
of steady holding on in doing her best. In short stories, of all branches 
of literature the most elusive and baffling, because they must be con¬ 
crete, dramatic, sustained, and brief, Mrs. Wheeler’s success has been 
marked, yet she neither wrote, lectured, nor did any outside official 
work, until she had reached the boundary of youth, and entered later life. 

Mrs. Caroline A. Creevey, who has published two successful volumes 
on botany, one of them involving several years of severe preparatory 
study and labor, began her definite authorship after forty, and among 
other women notably successful in achievement, in literary endeavor, are 
Mrs. Kate Upson Clark, Miss Susan Hayes Ward, and Mrs. Margaret 
Hamilton Welsh, all of whom had left first youth behind, before they de¬ 
voted their powers to professional effort. Mrs. Elizabeth Storrs Mead, 
for ten years the energetic, popular, and splendidly successful president 
of Mount Holyoke College, was beyond fifty when she entered upon the 
responsibilities of her exacting chair. 

Language study is another attractive field. That languages are most 
easily acquired during the facile period of childhood, when the brain is 


MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN AND SUCCESSFUL ENDEAVOR 


269 


quick to receive and retain impressions, must be admitted. But nothing 
presents an insuperable obstacle to the woman who can give attention, 
take lexicon, grammar, and time, and sit down before the fortress of the 
new and unfamiliar tongue, determined to gain freedom within its 
guarded precincts. I know a gentlewoman who began the study of He¬ 
brew at seventy years of age, which, for most people, is old age. She 
conquered its difficulties, and became a promising scholar, under the 
tutorship of a learned rabbi — not merely a pupil, but a person with 
claims to scholarship in Hebrew — and at eighty years she reads her Old 
Testament in its original text. 

Our trouble, dear middle-aged friends, is that we develop our minds 
too much along certain lines, and that we permit whole sets of faculties 
either to lie dormant, or to become atrophied for want of use. She, who 
complains that her memory is going, should do as she did in childhood, 
resolutely learn a portion of prose or verse, by heart, every day, and let 
somebody hear her lesson. (< Nothing can stand before a day’s works,” 
said a wise teacher. Are we to sit down and lament the evanescent 
bloom of girlhood in this interesting world, where success is the reward 
of a wide-awake enthusiast, and a persevering plodder, in any field, at 
any age ? Perish the thought as unworthy! 




PERSONAL HYGIENE. 


272 


PERSONAL HYGIENE 

% 


A knowledge of the structure of the human body; of its several 
parts and organs; of the functions these organs perform and 
the ways in which each does its work has come to be regarded 
as among the most useful information anyone can possess. Years 
ago Herbert Spencer sounded the note of value and it has been fol¬ 
lowed more or less steadily ever since. 

It has been regarded as the most logical form of treating the 
question of self-preservation and of self-defence to begin with the 
subject of anatomy. This is followed by physiology or the condition 
of the human body in health. After that the condition of the body 
in the several states of disease is presented as pathology. 


ANATOMY OF BONES AND MUSCLES 


T he study of the location, form, structure, and names of the parts of 
the body is called Anatomy. The word Gomes from the Greek 
word to (< cut-up, ® alluding to the method of study by dissec¬ 
tion. The foundation of the human body is a bony frame-work called 
the skeleton. The bones which compose it are of three kinds: the 
long bones, designed for strength and the leverage of muscles; the 
flat bones, for protection and to present a large surface for the at¬ 
tachment of muscles; and the irregular shaped bones. The bones of 
the head form the skull, and it is divided into the cranium or brain 
receptacle, and the face. The bones of the cranium are the Frontal 
bone, forming the forehead or front of the head; the two Parietal, 
forming the sides of the head above the ears; the two Temporal, 
forming the temples, and including the opening of the ear (external 
auditorium meatus ), and the large eminence behind the ear (mastoid 
process); the occipital, forming the base and back of the skull and 
including the occipital protuberance at that part, to which the long 
ligament which holds up the head is attached (ligamentum nuchce ); 
it also presents the large opening (foramen magnum) through which 
the spinal cord (medulla oblongata') passes. These form the outer 
shell of the skull, and are joined together by dove-tailed joints, called 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


273 


sutures. At birth there is not a perfect union of these bones, and 
the opening or imperfect union at the apex of the skull of an infant 
is called the fontanelle. The sutures become less distinct in old age. 
Two other bones of the cranium are the ethmoid and sphenoid which 
form the floor or base of the skull. The bones of the face are: the 
Malar or cheek-bones; the Nasal or nose-bones; the Superior Maxil¬ 
lary or upper jaw bones; the Inferior Maxillary or lower jaw bones; 
and the Vomer, a plough-share shaped bone forming the septum or 
division of the nasal passages. The Inferior Maxillary or lower jaw 
bone articulates or unites with the temporal bone by means of a 
hinge-like union formed by an enlargement of the inferior maxillary 
(condyloid process) which fits into a depression ( zygomatic fossa ) in 
the temporal bone. The angle of the lower jaw is the bend or turn 
which may be felt under the ear. The point of union of the two 
inferior maxillary bones is a line running down the middle of the 
chin and called the Symphysis. The Hyoid bones are in the throat 
and form attachments for the vocal cords. There are also three odd¬ 
shaped bones in the inner ear which form a communication chain for 
the conveyance of sound. On the superior and inferior maxillary 
bones is a soft bony tissue (alveolar process ) into which the teeth are 
set. The skull rests upon the vertebral column or back-bone which 
is made up of twenty-four separate bones called vertebrae. These 
are divided into seven cervical, twelve dorsal, and five lumbar. The 
skull fits upon the upper cervical vertebra ( the atlas) by means of 
flat surfaces ( condyles) and these permit the nodding motion of the 
head. The second cervical vertebra ( axis) has an elongated body 
which runs up through the atlas, and permits the rotary motion of 
the head. The seventh cervical vertebra has a very long process to 
which one end of the long-ligament ( ligamentum nucha) of the neck 
is attached, the other being fastened to the occipital protuberance. It 
acts something after the manner of a check-rein of a horse. The 
lower vertebrae, the lumbar, fit upon the sacral and the coccygeal, 
which are false vertebrae situated in the region of the back of the 
hips. The ribs are fastened behind to the dorsal vertebrae and in 
front in part to the breast-bone ( sternum) and the floating ribs to a 
cartilage which permits some motion which gives them the common 
name. The ribs are twenty-four in number arranged V 'clve on a 
side, seven of which are true and five floating. The two shoulder- 
blades are the Scapulae. The two collar-bones ( clavicles) extend from 
the sternum or breast-bone to the shoulder. The Scapulae and Clavi¬ 
cles come together and form an articulation or joint by means of a 
hollow ( glenoid fossa) into which the head of the long bone of the 
upper arm ( humerus) fits. The humerus enlarges at the elbow-joint 
1 —18 


274 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


into two large flat surfaces to receive the two bones of the fore-arm 
(radius and ulna). 

The Radius is the outer bone of the fore-arm and permits the ro¬ 
tary movement of the hand. The Ulna is the inner bone. These 
unite with the several bones which form the wrist. The wrist is a 
very complex joint and is made up of irregular shaped bones: the 
Scaphoid, the Semilunar, the Cuneiform, the Pisiform, the Trapezium, 
the Trapezoid, the Magnum, the Unciform. From these radiate, the 
five Metacarpal which form the hand up to the lower knuckles. Be¬ 
yond these are the First, Second, and Third rows of the Phalanges, 
which form the joints of the hands. 

The Pelvis is the general name given to the region about the hips. 
It is made up of the Sacrum and Coccyx at the back and the two 
irregular bones of the sides which are the Ossa Innominata, or un¬ 
named bones, as they do not resemble any particular object in shape. 
The point of union in front is called the Symphysis pubis. There 
is a large cup-shaped hollow (the Acetabulum) in each into which the 
head of the thigh or long bone of the leg (Femur) fits. The Femur 
or long bone of the upper leg enlarges at the knee-joint to unite 
with the two long bones of the lower leg — the Tibia and Fibula. 
At the knee-joint there is another small bone, the Patella, which forms 
the knee-cap. The Tibia and Fibula unite with the irregular bones 
of the ankle-joint. These correspond with the bones of the wrist 
and are: the Astragalus; the Os calcis or heel-bone; the Scaphoid; 
the Internal, Middle, and External Cuneiform; the Cuboid. From 
these radiate the five Metatarsal bones which form the foot proper; 
and to these are articulated the First, Second, and Third rows of the 
Phalanges which form the joints of the toes. 


MUSCLES 

The Ligaments are bands of connective tissue, usually of a car¬ 
tilaginous nature, and serve to bind the several bones together to form 
the joints. Each ligament has its peculiar shape, location, and office 
and ligaments are usually named accordingly. The muscles are bands 
of fiber which communicate motion under the action of the motor 
nerves. The muscles are named by their Latin names which indi¬ 
cate their location, uses, or shape. An <( extensor w muscle stretches a 
limb out; a (( flexor* bends it; an <( adductor w carries it forward. The 
head is covered by the fibers of the Occipito-frontalis, which moves 
the scalp backward and forward, wrinkles the forehead and raises 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


275 


the eyebrows. The Temporalis helps to close the mouth by raising the 
lower jaw. The eyelids are closed by the Orbicularis palpebrarum. The 
Masseter closes the lower jaw firmly and carries it forward as in 
biting the upper lip with the lower teeth. The act of bowing the 
head upon the breast is done by a pair in the neck — the Sterno- 
cleido-mastoid. When only one of these act at a time, the head is 
turned to face in the direction opposite to that in which the acting 
muscle lies. The head is drawn back by the Trapezius which are 
the large muscles of the back of the neck and run down onto the 
shoulder. One acting alone causes the head to recline or drop over 
on the opposite shoulder. The corners of the mouth are drawn down 
by the Platysma Myoides. The arm is raised, carried forward and 
backward by the Deltoides , which is the large muscle on the outer 
part of the shoulder. The fore-arm is bent upon the upper arm by 
the Biceps flexor capiti and the Brachialis anticus which form the front 
of the upper arm, and form the prominent bunch of muscles when 
the arm is bent. The under or inner side of the upper arm is the 
Triceps extensor cub it i; and it straightens the arm out when bent by 
the two previously mentioned. The Coraco-brachialis is a very small 
muscle in the front of the upper arm close to the Biceps. It helps to 
carry the arm forward and up. On the inner side of the arm at the 
elbow is the Pronator radii teres which turns the palm of the hand 
down and also helps to bend the arm. When the right arm is held 
palm up, the outer muscle of the fore-arm, just below the elbow, is the 
Supinator radii teres, which turns the palm of the hand upward and 
helps to bend the fore-arm. The wrist is bent by the Flexor carpi 
radialis which is just below the joint in the hollow of the arm. The 
hand is bent up toward the fore-arm by the Palmar is longus. The fingers 
are bent on the palm by the Flexor digit or um communis. The Flexor 
carpi Ulnaris bends the wrist and helps to flex the fore-arm. The 
thumb is carried over the palm of the hand by the Adductor pollicis 
manus. The joints of the fingers are moved by a number of Flexor 
muscles. The Pectoralis major is a large muscle of the chest and runs 
over to the upper arm in front of and above the arm-pit. _ The Latis- 
sinius dorsi is the broad muscle of the back and side. The lercs 
major is on the lower side and back of the shoulder. These three 
muscles act together and lower the arm, and press it into the side. 
When the Pectoralis major acts alone, it carries the arm in front of 
the chest. The Serratus magnus is situated along the side of the 
body below the Pectoralis major. It raises the shoulder and brings 
forward the shoulder-blade. The muscles of the abdomen are the 
Obliquus externus abdominis and the Rectus abdominis, which are used 
to hold in, and withstand the pressure of, the internal organs. The 


276 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

Glutceus medius over the hip and the Glutceus maximus form the 
fleshy portion of the trunk. These act upon the bended leg and either 
extend it or bring it into line, or move one thigh away from the other. 
The Psoas, Iliacus, and the Pectineus , all on the upper and inner por¬ 
tion of the thigh, serve to bend the leg upon the abdomen. One thigh 
is drawn up to touch the other, or the legs are closed, by the Ad¬ 
ductor longus, brevis , and medius. The Vastus Ext emus is on the 
front of the thigh and is used in straightening the leg. The Biceps 
flexor cruris is at the back of the upper leg, and operates in bending 
the knee, and also in turning .the foot inward and outward. The 
Gastrocnemius and the Solens form the calf of the leg. They operate 
in lifting the heel. The Tibialis anticus is over the shin and aids in 
bending the foot. The Extensor communis digitorum aids in extend¬ 
ing the toes and in bending the foot. It is at the side of the shin. 
The Pcronceus longus and brevis are at the back of the leg and below 
the calf. They draw the foot back. The Gastrocnemius and the 
Tibialis Anticus merge at the heel and form the Tendo Achillis, which 
is the strongest tendon in the body. It is attached to the Os Calcis 
or heel-bone. 


DIGESTIVE SYSTEM 

The alimentary tract may be likened to a chemical test-tube, be¬ 
ginning with simple chemical reactions in infancy, and gradually 
increasing to more complicated ones as life advances. The food may 
be likened to the chemical substance to be analyzed (in this case the 
aim of the analysis would be the separation of the elements, and 
preparing them for absorption). The digestive fluids are the chem¬ 
ical reagents by which the foods are split up into the constituent ele¬ 
ments. 

The mouth, called the oral or buccal cavity, with its various acces¬ 
sory organs, forms the first part of the digestive tract. It is lined 
throughout with mucous membrane, which discharges its secretion 
into the cavity, together with those of the various glands, the com¬ 
bined product forming the first digestive fluid, the saliva. 

After being reduced to a pulpy consistency by the teeth and mixed 
with the saliva, the food is swallowed. The act of swallowing is per¬ 
formed through the contraction of the muscles forming the pharynx. 
Passing into the oesophagus, the food moves with a wave-like motion 
until it reaches the stomach. The oesophagus is a narrow tube nine 
inches in length, extending from the lower part of the pharynx to the 
stomach. For a short distance it runs parallel with the windpipe and 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


27 / 



then extends backward and downward behind the lungs. This ac¬ 
counts for the pain under the shoulder blades in cases of indigestion. 
The oesophagus is lined throughout with a mucous membrane, in 
order that the surface may be kept moist to facilitate the pas¬ 
sage of the food. 

It should be remembered that the oesophagus or gul¬ 
let does not follow a straight line in its course, butj 
must deviate to pass various obstructions such as the 
trachea and lungs, and the curve of the spine. Unless’! 
the food is properly prepared by mastication before itS 
reaches this part of the canal, indigestion will often result. 

The principal part of the digestive tract lies in the ab-1 
domen, the largest cavity of the body. The abdomen is' 
separated from the chest by a membrane composed partly 
of muscles and partly of fibrous tissue. This is the dia-yjj 
phragm, which forms the floor of the chest and the roof of, 
the abdomen. It is fan-shaped in outline with the handle 
attached to the spinal column and the elliptical edge attached 
to the ribs -in front. This diaphragm expands and contracts during the 
process of breathing, and it is the spasmodic contraction of it which 
causes hiccough. 

The various parts of the alimentary canal found in the abdominal 
cavity are held in position by the peritoneum, a strong serous mem¬ 
brane which covers the organs but at the same time permits of their 
free movement during digestion. An inflammation of this membrane 
is called peritonitis, a disorder usually terminating in the death of the 
patient. 

Just after the oesophagus passes through the diaphragm it expands 
into a funnel-shaped pouch called the stomach, which is a muscular sac, 
situated under the ribs and slightly to the left side of the body. It is the 
most dilated part of the digestive tract, being about twelve inches long 
and four inches wide, and, when distended, is capable of holding from 
two to three pints of fluid. It is the principal organ of digestion, for in it 
not only does the solution of the food take place but it becomes divided 
into its various elements in the process called chymification, and some 
parts of it are digested and absorbed. 

The stomach has been likened to the chemist's retort, except that 
the curves are not so marked and the discharging tube is shortened. 
The entrance and exit are guarded by valves known respectively as the 
cardiac and pyloric valves. These valves guard the cardiac and pyloric 
openings or orifices, preventing the food from being regurgitated into 
the oesophagus or from being expelled from the stomach before the 
proper time. 






278 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

The stomach is covered with a delicate serous membrane, a part of 
the peritoneum, and its walls consist of three coats: (1) A tough outer 
coat of fibrous tissue which strengthens and protects the organ. (2) A 
coat of involuntary muscular fibers, which extends in several directions, 
The peculiar arrangement of these muscular fibers gives the wave-like 
or rolling motion to the stomach, churning the food and mixing it with 
the fluids of the organ, by the alternate contraction and relaxation of 
the various strata of muscles. (3) The inner coat, containing the mesh- 
work of nerves and blood vessels, and called the mucous membrane. 
This coat is a continuation of the lining membrane of the mouth and 
oesophagus. When the stomach is contracted this membrane is thrown 
into folds running across the organ from front to back, but when it is 
full these folds disappear. 

The peptic and mucous glands are situated in this membrane and 
pour out their secretions when stimulated by food. The food is mixed 
with the secretions from the little tubes which empty into little pits with 
which the surface is covered, like the cells of a honeycomb. A glance 
at a pigce of tripe, the internal lining of an ox’s stomach, will afford a 
fair but exaggerated picture of these pits. 

The intestines are divided into the small and large intestines and are 
of such length that they fill almost the entire abdomen. The small in¬ 
testines are doubled upon themselves many times. They form that part 
of the digestive tube in which the chyme from the stomach is mixed with 
the secretions of the liver, the pancreas and the intestinal mucous mem¬ 
brane. It is about twenty feet long and is divided into three parts. The 
first part is about nine inches long and adjoins the pyloric or right end 
of the stomach, and is called the duodenum. It is curved like a horse¬ 
shoe, to receive the head of the pancreas, and into it flows the secretion 
from the liver — the bile — and that from the pancreas or sweetbread — 
the pancreatic juice. The small intestine itself also secretes a fluid called 
intestinal juice, which acts upon the food products still undigested. The 
second part is called jejunum and comprises the upper two-fifths of the 
rest of the small intestines. The third part is called the ileum, which 
comprises the other three-fifths and ends at the ileocaecal valve, the 
beginning of the ascending colon of the large intestine. Situated at the 
juncture of the large and small intestines is the appendix, the inflamma¬ 
tion of which causes so much trouble. 

Like the stomach, the intestines are composed of three coats, the 
inner being filled with nerves and blood vessels. In addition, this mucous 
membrane is filled with myriads of minute projections, called (< villi. ® 
They give to the membrane an appearance not unlike velvet or plush, 
the fine hair-like projections being so closely set together that it is diffi¬ 
cult to distinguish them as projections at all. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 279 

In each of these villi is a network of very fine blood vessels and a tube 
called a lacteal, so named because it carries a white milk-like fluid. 
These lacteals may be regarded as numerous little roots which suck up 
the fluid food as the root does the moisture from the soil. 

The large intestine begins at the ileocsecal valve which joins the 
lower or iliac portion of the small intestine to the large intestine, and ex¬ 
tends upward as far as the under surface of the liver. Turning at right 
angles, it crosses the abdomen to the left side and with another turn ex¬ 
tends downward, ending at the anus. In the adult the large intestine is 
about five to eight feet long, or about one-fifth the entire length of the 
alimentary canal. At birth it is only about a foot and a half long, the 
last eight or ten inches being the sigmoid flexure. No growth takes 
place during the first four months, but the parts become readjusted, the 
sigmoid flexure at the end of this time measuring only six inches and the 
rest of the intestine about fifteen inches. 

The large intestine is called the colon or large bowel, and the intes¬ 
tines collectively are called the bowels or entrails. The colon is usually 
divided into four parts—the ascending, transverse, and descending co¬ 
lons, and the sigmoid flexure. 

The large bowel resembles an inverted letter U — the ascending and 
descending colons being the upright lines, and the transverse colon being 
the crossbar. The transverse colon is the longest of the several divi¬ 
sions of the colon, and is the most movable part of the bowel. The de¬ 
scending colon terminates in the sigmoid flexure which is the narrowest 
part of the colon, and is situated on the left side at the crest of the hip 
bone. This part of the bowel is about eighteen inches long and is shaped 
like the Greek letter Sigma ?, whence its name. 

The rectum is about eight inches long and is the terminus of the 
larger bowel, the external opening being closed by a sphincter muscle, 
called the sphincter ani. The narrowest portion is at the juncture with 
the sigmoid flexure, and from that point it rapidly widens. 

Each of the organs of digestion secretes a fluid which acts upon cer¬ 
tain elements of the food, dissolving them out of the mass. In addition 
to the solvent action of the water contained in each of these fluids there 
is also a substance called a (< ferment,» which chemically changes one or 
more of the food constituents and renders them soluble. Upon the 
proper action of these fluids, as well as upon the good condition of the 
various organs concerned in digestion, depends the power of food to 
nourish the body. When the glands and organs are in perfect condition, 
and the food is perfectly adapted to their capacity, the process of diges¬ 
tion is a subconscious one, giving rise only to vaguely pleasant sen¬ 
sations, and establishing itself as the foundation for many cheerful 
emotions. 


280 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


THE CIRCULATORY SYSTEM 


As the food after digestion becomes absorbed by the blood, this 
fluid may be regarded as being in a manner an accessory to the diges¬ 
tive tract, for the ultimate purpose of digestion — tissue building — is 
not accomplished till the food elements are conveyed to the various 
parts of the body by the blood current. 

The blood laden with these elements must go first to the liver, by 
means of the portal circulation, where certain portions are either 
changed or have some of their undesirable parts filtered out. Con¬ 
tinuing on its way it leaves the liver and enters the right side of the 
heart, and from there it goes to the lungs to be oxidized or puri- 
and then back to the left side of the heart to be distributed 
to the various parts of the body. 

This circulation in the human being is carried on by a deli¬ 
cate machinery which has been compared to the pumping sta¬ 
tion of a city’s waterworks. The great central engine is the 
iheart; the water mains are the arteries; the service pipes the 
arterioles or capillaries; the tenant in the house, who uses the water, 
the muscles and other tissues of the body; the sewer pipes are 
the veins; and the discharging outlets are the lungs, kidneys and 
skin. 

The heart is a hollow, pear-shaped, muscular organ, situated 
I very nearly in the center of the chest, with the broad end or base 
uppermost, toward the right side, and the point or apex down¬ 
ward toward the left. In the infant the position differs some- 
circulation what from that of the adult, owing to the difference in the 
3, Aorta; 2, Right rung; 3, diaphragm. The normal adult heart is about the size of one’s 
reft Lung; 4, Right Au- dosed fist, so that if the fist be placed diagonally upon the 

tide; 5, Right Ventride; , 

6, Left ventride; 7 , Left chest, thumb uppermost, and to the right, the knuckle of the lit- 
Lobe; 8, Right Lobe; 9-9, p n ^ er reaching to the space between the fifth and sixth ribs, 

a fair idea of the position of the heart in the chest will be gained. 
The heart is a double organ, consisting of a right heart and a left 
heart, each being subdivided into two chambers, called auricles and ven¬ 
tricles, the whole being composed of involuntary muscular fibers. The 
auricles are situated uppermost and receive their names from their fan¬ 
cied resemblance to the human ear. The ventricles come together at the 
apex. The right auricle opens into the right ventricle and the left auri¬ 
cle into the left ventricle. The ventricles are much stronger and their 
walls thicker than the auricles and the left ones are stronger than the 
right. There is no direct communication between the two sides of the 
heart, as the blood-stream enters and leaves by veins and arteries in a 





ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


281 


manner soon to be described. Between the auricles and ventricles, and 
between the ventricles and arteries, are minute valves like those of a pump, 
which by opening but one way allow the blood to flow out but prevent 
its return. The valve separating the right auricle and right ventricle 
is called the tricuspid valve, because it has three points. The one on 
the left is called the mitral valve, because it has two folds shaped like a 
bishop’s miter. The valves which guard the arteries at their exit from 
the ventricles are called semilunar, because of their half-moon shape. 

At birth, the heart retains its foetal character, there being an open¬ 
ing known as the foramen ovale, which allows direct communication 
from the right auricle to the left auricle. A few days after birth this 
gradually closes and normal circulation is established. Bearing this 
important difference in mind, the child when laid down should be placed 
on its right side at birth, to facilitate this closing. 

The largest artery of the body is the aorta, which starts at the left 
ventricle, and at first ascends, then turns downward, forming an arch. 
At the top of this arch two large arteries branch off to supply blood to 
the head and arms. The free end of the arch runs backward and down¬ 
ward behind the lungs, passing through the diaphragm, along the spine, 
to the lower part of the abdomen, where it branches into two large arte¬ 
ries, one going to each limb. As the aorta passes through the abdomen 
it gives off branches to supply the organs of that cavity, as the stomach, 
spleen, and liver. The large arteries branch into numberless smaller 
ones, becoming gradually smaller and smaller till they become very 
minute and are known as capillaries. 

After permeating the tissue substances, the blood begins its return 
journey to the heart by means of veins. Beginning with the capillaries 
in the tissue, at a point where the artery and vein are practically the 
same continuous tube, the little veins gradually increase in size until they 
reach the largest in the body. The veins are nearer to the surface of the 
body than are the arteries, and consequently are more easily discernible, 
being quite noticeable in some fair-skinned persons. They are provided 
with minute valves, something like the semilunar valves at the entrance 
to the aorta, to prevent the blood flowing backward. The capillaries 
gradually increase in size, at first being so fine in caliber that the blood 
corpuscles, which measure about -g-jVtf °f an i nc ^ i n diameter, can pass 
through them only one at a time. Those of the legs pass upward, larger 
and larger branches uniting till they become one large vein, known as 
the inferior vena cava, which flows into the right auricle. In a similar 
manner the veins of the head and arms unite to form the superior vena 
cava, which also empties into the right auricle. 

When the auricle which is supplied with the venous blood, collected 
from all parts of the body, becomes filled, it contracts and forces the 



282 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


blood into the right ventricle. As soon as this chamber becomes filled, 
the walls begin to contract, which action closes the tricuspid valve, pre¬ 
venting the blood from returning or <( backing up into the auricle which 
it has just left. Connected with the right ventricle is the pulmonary 
artery, which conveys the impure venous blood from the heart to the 
lungs, and which is the only example of the kind in the body, i. e ., of 
venous blood passing through an artery. 

After the blood permeates the lung structure, and becomes purified, 
or oxidized, it is conveyed by means of four pulmonary veins to the left 
auricle. Here the same process is repeated as on the right side of the 
heart; the blood is forced through the mitral valve to the left ventricle, 
which in turn contracts, closing the valve, and forcing the blood into the 
aorta to be distributed throughout the body. 

The alternate contraction and dilation of the heart causes the 
peculiar sound so familiar to every one. When the ear is applied to the 
chest over the region of the heart, two distinct sounds are heard, 
g which have received various phonations, but the one most accepted 
is that of (( lub-dub. J> These sounds are separated by a slight 
™ pause or rest. The first sound takes place upon the contrac¬ 
tion of the heart walls; the second and shorter sound takes 
place upon the closing of the semilunar valves. T^ e cori- 
traction is styled systole, while the alternating pause or di¬ 
lation is called diastole. The contraction of the ventricles 
causes a striking of the organ against the chest walls, 
which in thin subjects may be distinctly seen on the left 
side, between the fifth and sixth ribs. Any emotion, ner¬ 
vousness, or violent exercise or disease of the organ will 
Pulmonary Artery; 4, interior cause the heart to contract faster, producing more frequent 



Right Auricle; 5, Corpus Arantii; 
6, I,eft Auricle; 7, Right Auricle; 
8, Interior of Right Ventricle; 9, 
Right Ventricle; 10, reft Ventri¬ 
cle; 11, Vena Cava Inferior. 


(( beats. }) As the blood passes from the heart into the ar¬ 
teries, the impulse of the contraction upon the current is 
felt all along the line, and in those vessels near the surface 
the motion can be distinguished by the touch, and is 
called the pulse. The radial artery at the wrist, the temporal artery at 
the temple, the carotid artery in the neck, and the one just above the 
heel, are the most prominent. 

In the adult the normal pulse rate is seventy-two to the minute, but 
in the child the number of beats per minute is greater. Slight differ¬ 
ences occur, the number of beats depending upon the occupation of the 
child at the time of observation. Self-consciousness, fear, exercise, and 
eating, will alter the rate, so that the best time to count the pulse is 
during sleep. The position also has something to do with the varia¬ 
tion, the pulsations being more frequent while standing than while sit* 
ting or ljdng down. The rate is likewise greater in females than in 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


283 


males. In infancy the circulation of the blood is more rapid than at 
any subsequent period. 

The pulse rate for different periods is as follows: — 


Age 

No. Per Minute 

Time of Circulation 

Six to twelve months. 

105 to 115 

12 seconds 

One to six years . 

90 to 105 

15 “ 

Seven to eleven years. 

80 to 90 

17 “ 

Eleven to fourteen years. . . . 

75 to 8 5 

21 “ 

Adult. 

72 

22 ‘ ‘ 


Physiologists have estimated that the amount of blood forced into 
the aorta at each contraction of the ventricle amounts to about six 
ounces, which would make about eighteen pounds per minute, and 
twelve tons every day. 

The total amount of energy expended each day by the heart is 
equal to the exertion of lifting a ton weight to the height of two hun¬ 
dred feet. 


NERVOUS SYSTEM 

The Brain is the center of the Nervous System. It occupies the 
whole upper and back portion of the skull. It is divided into two 
parts or lobes; the larger and upper portion the Cerebrum and the 
smaller and lower portion the Cerebellum. Below the Cerebrum and 
in front of the Cerebellum is the Pons Varolii or Bridge . Continuous 
with the Pons is the Medulla Oblongata which passes through the 
foramen magnum and is continuous with the Spinal Cord. The brain 
of man is larger and heavier than that of any other animal except 
the elephant and some of the larger whales. The brain of an adult 
male averages 49 or 50 ounces. That of an adult female from 44 to 
45 ounces. The average weight of the brain of a new-born infant is 
from 10 to ounces. The brain of Cuvier weighed 64^- ounces; 

Dr. Abercrombie’s, 63 ounces; that of Agassiz, 53 ounces. Great 
weight of brain is not an indication of intellectual power, no more 
so than great bulk of body is an indication of muscular strength. 

* The brain of the insane has been known to run as high as 64% ounces 
and all of them to maintain a high average. The brains of some 
idiots have ranged from 50^ ounces down as low as 8 ounces. In 
general the weight of brain in races other than Caucasian is lower 
and of not so wide a range. 

The brain itself gives off several pairs of nerves which pass out 
through openings in the skull. Among these are the Olfactory nerves, 
















284 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

or nerves of smell, which pass to the nose and ramify over the in¬ 
ferior turbinated bones of the nose and thus present a large sensitive 
surface; the Optic nerve, or nerve of sight, which passes to the eye 
and spreads out over the retina; the Auditory , or nerves of hearing, 
which supply the inner ear. These are known as Sensory nerves. 
The chief Motor nerves, or those which have to do with exciting move¬ 
ment of the muscles which they supply, are the Oculo-motor , the 
Trochlear , and the Adducent, which act upon the muscles of the eye 
and control its movements; the Portia dura, which controls the facial 
muscles of expression; the Spinal Accessory, which supplies the mus¬ 
cles of the neck; and the Hypoglossal, which supplies the muscles of 
the tongue. Others again are mixed nerves which act both as nerves 
of sense, and as nerves of motion. These are the Trifacial, which 
supply the muscles of the face, those of mastication, and some mu¬ 
cous membranes; the Glosso-pharyngeal, which ramifies over the surface 
of the pharynx, the palate, and the back of the tongue where it acts 
as a gustatory nerve, or nerve of taste; the Pncumogastric, which acts 
with the Spinal Accessory, and supplies muscles of the neck, some 
mucous membranes and internal organs, such as the lungs and lining 
of the stomach. 

The word <( ganglion, ® used extensively in the Sympathetic Nerv¬ 
ous System, means a knot or enlargement of a nerve, or collection 
of ganglion-cells. These ganglia are distributed over the body and 
act as reservoirs or as storage batteries do in an electric system. They 
are most abundant along the spinal cord where each vertebra has its 
attendant pair of ganglia from which nerves branch and ramify, from 
the spinal cord and convey impressions or excite muscular movement. 
The Sympathetic Nervous System consists mainly (1) of these gan¬ 
glia arranged in pairs at each vertebra; (2) of three main aggrega¬ 
tions of ganglia, called plexuses, and situated in the thorax and the 
abdomen; (3) of several smaller plexuses distributed through the 
internal organs; and (4) of an immense number of small nerves 
distributed by these ganglia. The Pharyngeal plexus includes the 
branches from the cervical region of the spinal cord, and they com¬ 
municate with the Glosso-pharyngeal and pneurnogastric nerves and 
control the pharynx, its muscles and membranes. Pulmonary branches 
pass from the cervical region to supply the lungs and to join the pos¬ 
terior pulmonary plexus. Vaso-motor branches pass off to supply the 
muscular coats of the arteries. Cardiac branches pass to the Pre 
vertebral Cordia plexus, Splanchnic branches include the great splanchnic 
nerve which goes to the Solar plexus along with the small splanchnic 
nerve, and the smallest splanchnic nerve supplies the venal or Kidney 
plexus. The Hypogastric branches pass to the Hypogastric plexus. All 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


285 

of these radiate from the ganglia situated along the vertebrae of the 
upper or cervical or thoracic region of the spine. 

The Cardiac plexus is at the base of the heart. Its nerves wind 
about the heart and control its movements. It acts with the pneu- 
mogastnc and sends some nerves to the lungs. 

The Solar plexus is situated at the pit of the stomach. It re¬ 
ceives the great and small splanchnic and branches of the pneumo- 
gastmc. This plexus exerts great nerve effect upon the viscera and 
internal organs. 

The Hypogastric plexus is located in front of the last lumbar ver¬ 
tebra. Parts of it are called Pelvic plexuses. The bladder and other 
lower internal organs, as well as the coats of arteries, are supplied 
by this plexus. 

In addition to the Sympathetic ganglia located near the spinal 
cord, there are sent off from the spinal cord 31 pairs of spinal nerves, 
which are both sensory and motor nerves. They are divided into 8 
pairs of cervical; 12 dorsal or thoracic; 5 lumbar; 5 sacral; and 1 coc¬ 
cygeal. Each spinal nerve has two roots: an anterior composed of 
motor nerve fibers, and a posterior, composed of sensory fibers. 
These plexuses are the Cervical , the Brachial , the Lumbar , the Lumbo- 
Sacral , the Sacral , and the Sacro-Coccygeal. The largest nerve in the 
body is the Great Sciatic , which passes through the pelvis, down the 
back of the thigh and divides into the internal and external popliteal. 

The nervous system may be likened to a delicate and complicated 
electric plant, with its dynamos, its positive and negative currents, its 
resistances, its transformers, its relays, and its innumerable current 
wires for lighting, telephoning, or mechanical purposes. The brain 
may be regarded as the great dynamo and the spinal cord as the great 

t 

motor main wire; the optic nerve as the electric light wire; the audi¬ 
tory nerve as the telephone wire — and so on, the parallel extending in 
every direction. As these parts of an electric plant work harmoniously 
together, so the parts of the nervous system fit with such exact nicety 
that the entire system is influenced by the working of one slight part. 

The nervous system is to the organs and muscles of the body what 
the electric current is to the electric plant. Shut off the current, and 
the plant is useless; destroy the nervous system, and the body dies; 
cut off a part of the current from one particular point, as, for in¬ 
stance, the electric light or the wire which feeds the trolley to propel 
the car, and the lights are extinguished or the car stops. Injure or 
destroy the optic nerve, and sight fails; injure the nerves which con¬ 
trol the lower extremities, and the individual can no longer walk. 
These illustrations simply show that the functions of the body, and 
even life itself, depend upon the integrity of the nervous system. 


286 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


This system is usually divided into two great divisions, the central 
nervous system and the sympathetic system. The central system is 
composed of the brain, spinal cord, and cerebro-spinal nerves. These 
are in communication with every part of the body. The sympathetic 
system has to do principally with the organs of digestion, circulation, 
and respiration, and is that part of the nervous system which is the most 
easily affected. 

The nerve tissue of the brain is composed of cells, so arranged as 
to give the appearance of marrow. The spinal cord is made up in 
much the same way, while the smaller nerves, although composed of 
the same kind of cells, have their cells so arranged that they seem to be 
in the form of fibers. A nerve is made up of a large number of these 
fibers packed closely together, like the fibers of a plant. If a cornstalk 
be cut lengthwise, the longitudinal section thus made would show a mul¬ 
titude of very fine fibers running up and down the stalk. With a little 
care these can be separated one from another so that each individual fiber 
can be distinctly seen. The whole number of fibers are inclosed in a cov¬ 
ering or sheath. Under the microscope, the nerves can be separated into 
similar tiny fibers which are united in a bundle surrounded by a sheath, 
and to the naked eye they appear as a single piece of thread. These 
nerves are nothing but an extension of the tissue of the brain and 
spinal cord, and they act as the wires to carry the vital current to the 
various parts of the body. 

The brain is the great central dynamo, and is the part of the nervous 
system which serves as the organ of the mind, the intellect, the will, and 
the emotions. Modern physiologists have clearly demonstrated that it is 
composed of a number of aggregations of nerve cells called centers, which, 
though practically independent of one another, yet are bound together 
to form the whole organ. Each of these centers has a special line of 
work to do and is largely uninfluenced by the others, except when the 
stimulating force acts upon more than one center at the same time. 
Therefore we may consider the brain as composed of a large number of 
minute dynamos, whose current wires are all merged into one conduit 
and are then distributed to various parts of the body. 

The average weight of the adult brain is three pounds, or, more ex¬ 
actly, fifty ounces. At birth, the average weight is one pound, at one 
year, thirty-two ounces, at two years, thirty-eight ounces; it is usually 
larger in the male than in the female. At birth the ratio of the weight 
of the brain to that of the body, according to careful estimates, is about 
one to eight; during the first year, one to six; during the second, one to 
fourteen; and in the adult, one to forty-three. Numerous examples of 
variation from these figures are found, the weight both being greater 
and smaller than the average. As a rule, a large brain indicates an active, 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


^87 


intelligent mind, but as the convolutions increase the area of the gray 
matter, a smaller brain with deeper convolutions may be equivalent to or 
even surpass the larger one. 

The interior of the brain substance is made up of white nerve tissue 
like the nerves which extend to the various parts of the body. Outside 
of this lies the gray matter, about one-eighth of an inch in thickness. In 
this layer is supposed to reside the active powers of the mind; and this 
layer, and consequently the mental activity, is increased as above stated, 
by the number and depth of the folds or convolutions of the brain. 

These convolutions are irregular depressions dipping into the sub¬ 
stance of the brain. It is easy to see that the surface is enormously 
increased by these folds or plaits, so that if the convolutions were spread 
out the brain would cover a much larger surface. The object of the 
convolutions, then, is to compress a large surface into a small compass. 

The brain is divided into three divisions, the cerebrum (the anterior 
part or brain proper), the cerebellum or posterior brain, sometimes 
designated as the lesser brain, and the medulla oblongata. 

The cerebrum or anterior brain fills the upper and forward part of 
the skull and contains the chief centers of mentality. It is divided into 
two nearly equal parts called hemispheres. These halves or hemispheres 
are composed of three lobes each, thus making this anterior part of the 
brain consist of six separate lobes or divisions. In disease, these lobes 
are affected in different ways, so that in many instances the part of the 
brain involved can be accurately determined by the train of symptoms 
exhibited. 

The cerebellum, posterior, or lesser brain, lies beneath and behind the 
cerebrum, and is separated from it by a fold of the dura mater or covering 
of the brain. The cerebellum also has two halves or hemispheres, arranged 
in layers, which upon a superficial glance resemble the interior of a 
chicken’s gizzard. In this part of the brain is supposed to reside the 
motor centers which control the voluntary muscles and their actions. 

The medulla oblongata is the enlarged upper end of the spinal cord; 
it forms the connecting link between the brain and the spinal cord. It is 
about one and one-half inches long, is situated just beneath the cerebel¬ 
lum, and is the center from which arise many of the nerves which control 
the involuntary activities of the body, such as respiration and circulation. 

The brain substance is separated from the bony structure of the skull 
by a membrane composed of three distinct layers; the outer, called the 
dura mater, a strong, tough layer of membrane; the middle or arachnoid 
which secretes a fluid to keep the surface of the brain moist; and the 
third, the pia mater, a very delicate membrane which lies close to the 
brain substance, following its convolutions, and supplying the tissues with 
nourishment from the delicate blood vessels contained within its walls. 


288 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


The brain sends out twelve pairs of specialized nerves, called the 
cranial nerves, which pass out of the skull by small orifices, and supply 
nerve force to the various organs of special sense and internal organs. 
They are either sensory, motor, or both, and give to us the sensations 
of sight, smell, taste, and hearing, and control the action of the lungs, 
heart, and stomach. 

The spinal cord, as a prolongation of the brain, like that organ, con¬ 
sists of two substances, the gray and white matter, surrounded by the 
dural membranes. Unlike the brain, however, the gray matter occupies 
the interior, and the white the exterior. The cord is divided into halves, 
the spaces separating the hemispheres being styled fissures. It acts as 
a sort of telegraphic relay, receiving the sensations from various parts 
of the body and transmitting them to the brain; there these sensations 
are transformed into consciousness, and the reaction is sent back along 
the motor fibers to act upon the injured or excited muscle or tissue. 

In addition to this action, the cord has a certain power of its own. 
From the spinal cord the trunk and limbs are supplied by thirty-one 
pairs of nerves, called spinal nerves. They pass from the cord by two 
roots, one from the front and one from the back. A short distance from 
the cord they unite to form one nerve bundle, although the fibers are in 
fact separated in the bundle. The roots which arise from the front or 
anterior part of the cord are the motor fibers, which control the action 
of the muscles to which they are supplied; those from the back or pos¬ 
terior part of the cord are the sensory fibers and convey the sensations 
from the various parts of the body to the spinal cord. 

If any one of these nerves is injured, the sensation and movement 
are destroyed in those parts supplied by the injured nerve. It some¬ 
times happens that one of the fibers is injured or diseased, leaving 
the other intact. Thus the motor nerve may be at fault, but the sen¬ 
sory nerve may be able to convey feeling or sensation. On the other 
hand, in some rare diseases the sensory nerve may be useless but the 
motor nerve be able to perform its function. 

In the brain, these nerves cross one another so that an injury to 
one side of the head will produce paralysis of the opposite side. As 
an example, suppose a child is struck on the head with a stone, or 
falls and injures the right side of the head; the left side of the face 
may be paralyzed. The corner of the mouth is drawn up on the injured 
side of the head, but the paralysis is on the opposite side, or on that in 
which there is drooping of the corner of the mouth. The up-twist is 
due to the normal contraction of the muscles, the drooping to the par¬ 
alysis of that part of the facial muscles. 

It has already been stated that the spinal cord has the power of 
independent action outside the function of transmitting sensations to 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


289 


the brain and receiving- motor stimuli from that organ, to be com¬ 
municated to the muscles or other organs. A sensation may be sent 
from the surface of the body, as a pin prick, or a burn, along the sen¬ 
sory fiber of a spinal nerve, and instead of going to the brain may be 
returned by way of the motor branch or fiber, resulting in the move¬ 
ment of the part touched. This return of motion without being car¬ 
ried to the brain, is a reflection of the sensation from the cord, just as 
a light striking a mirror is reflected back. To this reflection of sensa¬ 
tion the term reflex action is given. 

Such action is most important, as it relieves the brain of a vast 
amount of work which, if required to be performed by that organ, would 
exclude many other and valuable functions and would lessen its capacity 
as an organ of intellection. Most of the movements and activities of the 
limbs and body are the result of reflex action, for while the will power 
may be, and sometimes is, brought into play to control or exercise these 
activities, as a matter of fact, they are done for the most part uncon¬ 
sciously and without the action of the brain at all. They are reflexes of 
the spinal cord. 

Besides these spinal nerves, there is the sympathetic nervous system, 
composed of a number of centers or ganglia, connected with each other 
by minute nerves, and with the sensory fibers of the spinal nerves, by 
gray nerve tissue. 

The brain and spinal cord are incased for protection in bony struc¬ 
tures, the brain in the skull and the spinal cord in the vertebral column, 
but the sympathetic system lies without and in front of the spinal 
column, like a chain of widely separated beads, the ganglia being the 
beads and the delicate connecting nerves the string. Radiating from 
these ganglia, a vast network of nerves extends to the various internal 
organs, each a complete system in itself and acting practically without 
relation to the brain or spinal cord. 

To illustrate: The heart, lungs, stomach, the arteries, and even the 
minute capillaries themselves, are controlled by these nerves. The 
functions of circulation, respiration, and digestion, go on whether we are 
conscious or unconscious, awake or asleep, without the help of the will. 
That there is a connection, however, with the cerebro-spinal system is 
shown by the fact that a blow or injury to any part of the body will 
often cause nausea, proving the connection between the nerves of the 
stomach and the cord. From such phenomena this nerve system has 
derived its name of sympathetic system. 

Through the blood which feeds and nourishes the various parts of the 
nervous system, the vitality of the nerve cells is maintained. If the food 
is insufficient or the breathing poor, the blood is first impoverished and 
this in turn affects the health of the nerve tissue. On the other hand, 
1—19 


290 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


the nerves control all the functions of the body, and if they are ex¬ 
hausted by disease or overwork, the several functions over which they 
preside become impaired. In other words, there is a reciprocal action 
between the two, and what affects the one will sooner or later affect the 
other. For example, if an individual in ordinary health subjects the 
nervous system to a severe strain such as overwork (and mental over¬ 
work is more depressing, and its effects more permanent, than is physical 
overwork), he will soon find his digestion impaired. The stomach, no 
longer stimulated to healthy action by the nerves which supply it with 
force, fails to secrete as much or as good digestive fluid as formerly; the 
food in consequence is not thoroughly digested, the amount assimilated 
is less in quantity, and less nourishing in quality; the blood does not 
receive enough of the proper revitalizing elements, and oxygenation is 
less effective because the lungs are affected in a similar manner; the 
blood is not purified to the proper extent, and the nerve food is thus 
rendered deficient in quantity and quality. The nerves not only do not 
grow as long as this condition lasts, but fail even to recuperate. 

During childhood, the nervous manifestations are varied, peculiar, and 
profound, and many times out of all proportion to the exciting cause. 
The rapid growth, the comparatively large size of the brain, and the im¬ 
perfect structure of the organ and its appendages, account for many of 
the peculiarities of this period. A very slight irritation is often sufficient 
to create a profound nervous impression, because the nerve centers are as 
yet but imperfectly formed and the nerves themselves, both sensory and 
motor, are more easily susceptible to irritation. They are more readily 
influenced by lack of nutrition, and are not only less resistant but are in 
fact more irritable. The chief nervous manifestations in early childhood 
are convulsions or spasms, Saint Vitus’s dance, night terrors, and other 
disorders of sleep, incontinence of urine, stuttering, and stammering. 
Individuals differ materially in their nervous make-up and their ability 
to resist the adverse forces battling for supremacy, so that in no class of 
physical ailments is there variety so marked as in those of the nervous 
system. 

For this reason, the greatest care must be given to the surroundings 
of the child, his health and hygiene must be guarded, and all undue 
stimulation or excitement prohibited. Artificial stimulants, such as tea, 
coffee, and alcoholics, must not be permitted. 

Being physically active, and growing rapidly, children require an un¬ 
usual amount of rest and sleep. Unless this quiet for recuperation is 
allowed, they soon develop symptoms of nervous disorders. The great 
fault of our modern life is, particularly with many of the school systems, 
that it is overstimulating, and affords too little time for mental and 
physical rest. Particularly is this true of city life, and it accounts for 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


291 


the fact that country children usually succeed in the long run. Their 
nerves and bodies are not subjected to the constant strain of city life, 
already unwholesome from the unsanitary and unhygienic surroundings. 
It is true that the mental development of the country child may be less 
acute and a little more restricted, but after a time he forges ahead be¬ 
cause he has his nervous and physical energy unimpaired. 

The influence of heredity has been commented upon elsewhere; it re¬ 
mains but to call attention to the fact and to emphasize its importance. 
Nervous parents are almost sure to have children as nervous as them¬ 
selves. It should be remembered, however, that a part at least of the 
adverse influence of heredity may be removed by favorable environ¬ 
ment. Unless the child from his birth is afforded plenty of fresh air, 
pure, digestible food, exercise, and suitable clothing, he will not only 
fail to overcome the handicap of this faulty inheritance, but in addition 
will fall from his already poor condition to one less favorable. 


THE RESPIRATORY SYSTEM 

Food that has been digested and absorbed must be oxidized before 
it can be utilized by the tissues. This oxidation is accomplished during 
inspiration. During expiration the impurities are thrown off, chiefly in 
the form of carbonic acid gas, thereby bringing into play the secondary 
function of the lungs, that of elimination. The lungs are the first and 
most important of the secondary eliminative organs, the kidneys the 
second, and the skin the last. 

Breathing is practically an unconscious, involuntary movement, like 
the action of the heart, yet it can in a slight degree be controlled by the 
will. A person can voluntarily stop breathing for a few seconds, that is, 
<( hold the breath w as in diving under water, and suffer no ill effects. 

The respiratory system is divided into three parts: (1) The air pas¬ 
sages, (2) the lungs, and (3) the skin. To most persons it will be sur¬ 
prising to learn that the skin is classed as a part of the breathing ap¬ 
paratus; yet as a matter of fact such it really is. That it has other and 
important functions, does not detract from its importance as a part of 
the breathing apparatus. For the present, however, the first two only 
will be considered. 

. The air passages consist of the nostrils, the mouth, and the wind¬ 
pipe. The nostrils are designed as a passageway for the air in which it 
may be warmed before it reaches the lungs. The air from the nostrils 
passes through the trachea or windpipe and thence into the lungs. The 
windpipe is a hollow tube about four inches long, made up of cartilagi¬ 
nous rings which prevent the collapse of the tube when subjected to pres- 


292 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


sure. The upper part is called the larynx, and is separated from the 
lower part of the nasal passage, termed the pharynx, by the epiglottis. 
The epiglottis consists of a fold of delicate membrane, attached to the 
inner surface of the larynx, like a trapdoor. When food is taken into 
the mouth this closes down, in order to prevent the particles from enter¬ 
ing the larynx, and as the air escapes from the lungs, it lifts. 

Just below the folds of the glottis, in the slit formed by its free edge 
when open, are the vocal cords or bands, which are so fixed that they 
can vibrate when the air comes in contact with them. This vibration 
constitutes the voice. When these cords are thickened, as during a cold, 
or in case of sore throat, they cannot vibrate to the same extent, and 
consequently produce a hoarse sound. 

The lower part of the trachea after entering the chest divides into 
two branches, one going to the right and the other to the left lung. 
These again divide into smaller and smaller branches until they become 
too fine to be discerned save by the microscope. The lungs, together 
with the heart and blood vessels, fill the entire chest cavity 0 The right 
lung is the larger, having three lobes, while the left has but two, the dif¬ 
ference being due to the space occupied by the heart. 

The function of the lungs is to purify the blood, making it fit for the 
work imposed upon it. The lung tissue is a sponge-like substance com¬ 
posed of air cells with a network of minute blood vessels. These 
capillaries are the connecting link, so to speak, between 
the arteries and the pulmonary veins. The air cells are 
minute hollow sacs closely bunched together, not unlike 
a cluster of grapes, and are connected by minute tubes 
; which become gradually larger, finally uniting into a 
I single bronchus from each lung, and these in turn join 
jto form the trachea or windpipe. When the air is 
j breathed through the mouth it flows through the 
I trachea into the bronchi, until it finally reaches the 
[small air cells. The delicate mucous membrane lin¬ 
ing these cells allows the air to come in contact with 
x and 4. superior Lobes; 7 and 5 , Middle the minute blood vessels or capillaries, so that the oxy- 

Lung; 8, Left Lung; 9, Arch of Aorta; the aii entei s the blood and the effete matter in 

10, Right Auricle of Heart; 11, Puimo- the form of carbon dioxide gas is released from the 

nary Artery; 12, Right Ventricle of . , n . 

Heart; 13, Left ventricle of Heart. blood and is expelled through the mouth. This pro¬ 
cess is called respiration and its two divisions are 
called inspiration and expiration. 

It is necessary that oxygen be introduced into the blood and the 
carbonic acid gas exhaled in order that the blood may maintain its 
normal condition, otherwise the blood corpuscles cannot discharge 
the function of tissue building. Air is a mechanical mixture of oxy 










ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


293 


gen and nitrogen, in the proportion of about twenty-one volumes of 
oxygen to seventy-eight of nitrogen. The remaining volume is a 
mixture of carbon dioxide, watery vapor, and ammonia. The nitro¬ 
gen acts simply as a diluent. Oxygen is a supporter of combustion 
and of animal life. The carbon dioxide is very poisonous, and two or 
three parts per thousand in the atmosphere is sufficient to produce 
drowsiness, headache, nausea, and even vomiting; and five per cent 
may prove fatal. 

As air is a mechanical mixture containing oxygen, and as certain 
elements of the blood have a chemical affinity for oxygen, it naturally 
follows that the oxygen will readily leave the air to unite with the 
blood. On the other hand, carbon dioxide and watery vapor have a 
greater affinity for air than for the blood, and as these two substances 
are both contained in the blood as impurities, when the opportunity is 
afforded for entering the air they avail themselves of it. Nitrogen sim¬ 
ply acts as the medium or receptacle, as it were, for both the oxygen 
and carbon dioxide. 


Breathing 

The air, during its stay in the pulmonary cavity, acquires not only a 
large proportion of carbonic acid gas, but also organic impurities in the 
form of waste material thrown off from the blood and lung tissue, by the 
process of osmose, or transudation. In other words, it leaks through 
the membranes and enters the air in the cells whence it escapes as above 
noted. When we are out of doors, these baneful products of expiration 
are continually being dissipated by the currents of air, while the lungs 
are constantly supplied with fresh oxygen through inspiration. In the 
house, or in a closed room, the air is rapidly deprived of this oxygen, 
while the noxious gases rapidly accumulate in its place, unless there is 
some arrangement for the frequent renovation of the atmosphere. A 
healthy adult breathes at the rate of about sixteen times per minute, 
taking in about twenty cubic inches of air with each inspiration. 

The mechanism of respiration is as follows: The diaphragm, which 
is a serous membrane separating the abdominal cavity from the chest 
cavity, alternately rises and falls as its fibers contract and relax. This 
movement is involuntary, though partially under the control of the will. 
When the diaphragm expands, the capacity of the chest is increased, the 
additional space being filled with the air rushing into the bronchi and 
expanding the elastic walls of the air cells. When it contracts, it rises 
and forces out the air. Both of these movements of inhalation and ex¬ 
halation are further assisted by the muscular action of the intercostal 
muscles, which alternately elevate and depress the chest walls, thereby 
decreasing and increasing the chest capacity. The entire capacity of 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


294 

the lungs is not filled with each inspiration, a certain amount of air re¬ 
maining in the lungs and thus preventing an entire collapse of the cells. 
Although the amount taken in and out each time forms but a portion of 
the entire capacity of the lungs, it rapidly diffuses through the entire 
lung structure. Following each expiration is a period of rest equivalent 
in time to the period of action. If the respirations are normal — that is 
to say, about sixteen to eighteen per minute — the amount of air breathed 
per day would be about three hundred cubic feet for each individual. 

A very common cause of vitiated air in the home is the presence of 
gas, either from the stove or the gas burner. Poisoning by escaping 
coal gas or ordinary illuminating gas is quite common among children. 
While it is true that many of the cases do not prove fatal, other condi¬ 
tions are caused which may entail great suffering, or the effects may 
linger for years before entire recovery takes place. 

The Nose 

Breathing, when properly performed, should take place through the 
nose; therefore, as the first of the air passages, it has an important 
office to perform. The outer nose, which forms so important a part of 
the facial outline and expression, is formed by skin and muscles held in 
place by the nasal bones, which are practically processes of the upper 
jaw. To this bony projection is attached a piece of flexible cartilage, 
which divides the nose into two parts, or nostrils. The nostrils are 
irregular canals extending backward into the head as far as the roof 
of the mouth. Here they expand into a vaulted chamber called the naso¬ 
pharynx. 

The partition wall, or septum, forms one side of each nostril, while 
the turbinated bodies form the other. These turbinated bodies, three in 
each nostril, are composed of thin pieces of bone covered with a spongy 
tissue. According to their position they are designated as upper, middle, 
and inferior turbinated bodies. 

The nose is the organ of smell, as well as the conduit by which the 
lungs receive air. By properly warming the air during its passage 
through the nasal cavities, the lungs are relieved of much of the strain 
that would be placed upon the delicate mucous membrane if cold air 
came in direct communication with it. Cold air acts as an irritant to the 
lungs and causes fits of coughing. 

The membrane of the nose is the beginning of the lining of the lung, 
and, while exceedingly delicate, is not so susceptible to air as is the lung 
membrane. The olfactory tract, or the path along which the sensations 
of smell are transmitted, has its terminal nerves in the <( superior turbin¬ 
ate. ® The lower body is covered with nerves of sensation and they are 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


295 


extremely sensitive to irritation. When any foreign body, germ, or irri¬ 
tant of any sort stimulates the nerves just described, there is a rush of 
blood to the membrane, and this disturbance of the blood supply causes 
sneezing, which is a forcible effort to expel the source of irritation. 

There are three practical conclusions to be drawn from this brief 
sketch of the respiratory tract: 

First: If the habit of taking deep inspirations is fully established, 
the strength and capacity of the lungs will be increased. Second: The 
air introduced through the nose will be gradually warmed and filtered so 
that it will be in a suitable condition to act properly on the blood cor¬ 
puscles. Third: Constriction of the chest walls interferes with the 
breathing and expansion of the lungs so that the normal capacity is 
reduced and general impairment of the circulatory system takes place. 
In other words, the inability of the blood to receive its proper amount of 
oxygen in order to purify it, affects every tissue in the body. 


CARE OF THE SKIN, HAIR, TEETH, AND NAILS 

The Skin 

The skin is not merely a factor in personal appearance, but is one 
of the most important organs of the body. It forms one of the channels 
for the elimination of the products of tissue waste and has a marked 
influence upon the bodily health. It is composed of two layers, the 
outer, or scarfskin, which contains neither blood 
vessels nor nerves, known also as cuticle and epi¬ 
dermis; and the lower layer, or true skin, called 
the cutis vera. The latter is richly supplied with 
blood vessels and certain appendages necessary 
for the proper performance of the several func¬ 
tions of the skin, as the sweat glands (sudorific), 
sebaceous glands, and the hair follicles. 

The true skin is highly sensitive and is pro¬ 
tected by the horny layer or scarfskin. The true 
skin is seen when the outer layer has been 
rubbed off as by scratching, or by a blister, or 
by some slight accident. The surface is raw' 
and painful, and from it oozes a little fluid or 
blood. This scarfskin is formed by myriads of small 
round cells, or scales, which are compressed tightly, and when still fur¬ 
ther pressed together by use, form the compact, horny skin so frequently 
seen on the palms of the hands of persons engaged in manual labor, as 
the « callous » on the hands of the blacksmith, or carpenter. 







296 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

In this layer is found the coloring- matter, or pigment, which gives 
the complexion to the skin. When the amount is small, we have the 
blond complexion, and when it is large, the brunette. As this in¬ 
creases still further, we have the dark races, running from yellow, red 
and brown, to black. In the latter cases, the pigment cells are more 
numerous and crowded together. The sun’s heat tends to increase 
this coloring matter. Cases of sunburn, for example, exhibit marked 
differences between those parts protected by the clothing and those 
exposed to direct sunlight. In common sunburn or tan the coloring 
is generally distributed over the exposed surface; when it collects 
into small spots it is called freckles. Slight burns, bruises, cuts, blisters, 
cold sores, and many skin eruptions affect only this layer, and conse¬ 
quently leave no scar after healing. 

The true skin is a firm, elastic tissue resting on meshes of tissue not 
unlike absorbent cotton. This tissue-bed is known as the subcutaneous 
tissue, and just where it begins and the true skin ends is not sharply 
defined; for all practical purposes it may be considered as part of the 
true skin. Unless otherwise noted, when speaking of the true skin the 
two layers (the cutis vera and the subcutaneous connective tissue) will 
be considered as one. It is the true skin that contains the sweat and 
oil glands and becomes filled with water in dropsy. It is covered on its 
outer surface with minute projections known as (< papillae,” which contain 
the terminations of the nerves and capillaries forming the organs of 
touch. When it is injured, a permanent scar is formed. Well-known 
examples are the white scars of cuts, pits from smallpox, and the raised 
scars from burns. 

The functions of the skin are more numerous and varied than those 
of any other organ of the human body. It serves as (1) a protective 
covering; (2) prevents too rapid dissipation of water from the tissue; (3) 
assists in keeping up the normal temperature; (4) acts as an organ of sen¬ 
sation, secretion, excretion, and absorption; and finally, (5) helps in the 
function of respiration. The first four functions are so self-evident that 
they need no special explanation, either as to their purpose or mode of 
action. 

The skin secretes sebaceous matter and perspiration, or sweat. The 
former is a semi-fluid material secreted by the sebaceous glands, and is 
composed of fat, cell debris, and certain odorous material. This sub¬ 
stance, when secreted in too large quantities, gives rise to the oily skin 
so often dreaded by women. In normal quantity it renders the skin soft 
and pliable, prevents the outer layer from too rapid chafing or excoriation 
when parts come in contact, and gives luster and pliability to the hair. 

The chief function of the perspiration is to aid in the elimination of 
effete materials and to prevent the temperature of the body from rising 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


297 


above normal. In health it is colorless, salty in taste, and acid in reac¬ 
tion. That it is of great importance in eliminating deleterious matter 
from the body, is shown by the close relation it sustains to the kidneys, 
for in cold weather the urine increases and the perspiration decreases, 
while in summer the reverse is true. Futhermore, in certain diseases of 
the kidneys the perspiration is heavily surcharged with products which 
should normally be secreted by the kidneys. 

The skin excretes carbonic acid and water, and is therefore one of 
the methods of breathing. We do not breathe entirely by the lungs, as 
is proved by the fact that if an animal be covered with varnish so that 
this process is prevented, death will result in from six to twelve hours. 
It therefore follows that it is of the utmost importance that the skin be 
kept healthy, as otherwise the general health is soon impaired. If the 
little exits of the glands become closed, the function of these glands 
ceases and to all intents and purposes they are dead. 

Not only is carbonic acid gas excreted from the skin, but oxygen is 
absorbed by it, just as it is by the lungs, and these two processes maybe 
called skin breathing. Moisture is also absorbed, as shown by the fact 
that thirst may be diminished by the person being clothed in wet gar¬ 
ments; moreover, one is usually not so thirsty on damp or wet days as on 
bright, sunshiny ones. 

Baths and Bathing 

In discussing the physiology of the skin, it was stated that one of the 
functions of the skin is to act as an aid to respiration. In other words, 
the skin is a secondary breathing apparatus. It also is used to discharge 
impurities from the blood. The superficial scales of the epidermis are 
mechanically rubbed off and have a tendency to mix with the sebaceous 
matter, perspiration, and dirt, thus forming a thin covering that has 
a tendency to close the openings of the pores. This interferes with the 
functions of the skin. The purpose of bathing, therefore, is to mechan¬ 
ically remove this pellicle; and, since the skin is intimately connected 
with all the internal organs by means of nerves, it acts as a stimulant or 
tonic to the nervous system. 

It is well known that many children fear to be put into a tub of any 
kind. They have been accustomed only to sponging, and their strong 
aversion to the tub often prevents the use of medical bathing in the case 
of fever or exhaustion from heat, and of the more thorough cleanliness 
obtained by a plunge bath. To avoid this fear, the child should never 
be put suddenly or roughly into the water, and especial care should be 
taken that the head is not accidentally allowed to slip below the water. 
The fear once contracted may often be cured by permitting the child to 
play in an empty tub for some time, and then putting in a small quantity 


298 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


of water, the next day more, and each day increasing the amount; or 
the condition may be met by putting a blanket over the tub, placing the 
baby on that, and gradually letting both down into the water. 

Every part of the body should be well soaped, but care should be 
taken that no soap is allowed to remain in the ears. For some months 
soap should be put on the scalp every day, but after six months this 
should be stopped, because, if long continued, it makes the hair dry 
and brittle. Vaseline should occasionally be rubbed on the head. The 
soapsuds should be removed by streams of water squeezed from a sponge. 

Cold baths should never be given to children under five years of 
age, although sponging the body with cool water may be begun as early 
as two or two and a half years of age, as a mild stimulant immediately 
following a warm bath. In every case, the head and face should be the 
first parts washed. In placing an infant in the tub, he should be made 
to lie in a semi-prone attitude, and the water should be of sufficient 
quantity to reach the neck. As he grows older he may gradually sit 
up. If the bath is to be given in the bath-room, much stooping can 
be avoided by placing the infant’s tub upon two slats laid crosswise 
over the stationary tub. 

Many mothers complain of the aversion of their babies to the full 
bath or even to washing with sponge or cloth. The physiological rea¬ 
son for this is, that the shock to the nervous system occasioned by the 
sudden reduction of temperature and overstimulation of the nerves of 
the skin, causes a congestion of the blood in the internal organs, 
especially in the lungs, and a marked difficulty in breathing, or short¬ 
ness of breath. 

Care should be exercised in holding the child during the tubbing pro¬ 
cess, for much depends upon this to obtain success. When the infant’s 
body is wet and slippery from the application of soap and water, it is 
easy for him to slip from the mother’s grasp and have his eyes, nose, 
and mouth suffused with water. A struggle for breath ensues and the 
child passes through an experience, momentary it is true, yet never for¬ 
gotten, and the mere sight of a tub thereafter almost throws him into 
convulsions. The form of bathing best borne by the majority of children 
is the full bath of the proper temperature, followed by a cold sponging 
while the child is standing in the lukewarm water. The duration of the 
bath for very young infants should be only one to two minutes. This 
period may be lengthened as the child grows older, until the longest de¬ 
sirable tirne, ten minutes, is reached. Prolonged bathing in hot water 
is to be deprecated, since it causes a relaxation of the entire system, and 
susceptible children are liable to feel ill effects. In the case of young 
children, bathing three times a week is all-sufficient, except the local 
bathing, which should always follow the removal of soiled napkins, when 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 299 

the parts should be thoroughly washed with warm water and thoroughly 
dried. In summer time a daily bath is of benefit, not so much for its 
cleansing as for its cooling effect. As a tonic, immersion baths are valu¬ 
able only when they are of short duration and followed by a brisk fric¬ 
tion, to cause the glow of reaction which must follow if they are to be of 
benefit. If reaction does not follow, or the child becomes chilled, it is 
an indication that either the bath must be discontinued or the method of 
administration is wrong. 

For infants, about ten o’clock in the morning is the best time for 
bathing; for older children, the bath is best given during the dressing 
process in the morning. The morning bath is better than the evening 
bath only as a matter of convenience, since the child is fresh in the 
morning and does not so readily rebel as when tired and sleepy. If, 
however, the child is a poor sleeper, the bath may be given in the even¬ 
ing, as it has a more or less sedative effect. The two things to be 
borne in mind are, first, regularity, and second, the avoidance of the 
bath just after meals. The mother should select the most convenient 
hour for this operation and not vary from it. The habit once estab¬ 
lished, the child will look for his bath as regularly as for his meal or 
his nap. 

At least an hour should elapse between the times of feeding and 
of bathing. The reason for this is not far to seek. If bathing takes 
place shortly after the ingestion of food, the stomach being already 
congested, the blood, which is always driven from the surface by the 
water, will find its way to the stomach, and supercongestion, so to speak, 
or hyperaemia, will ensue. As a result, indigestion or colic may follow. 
It is never advisable to bathe a child whose skin is covered with an 
eruption, except upon the advice of a physician, because ill effects 
often follow in eczema and other skin diseases, from the use of soap 
and water. 

Eruptions of the skin requiring immediate treatment should be very 
carefully handled. The slightest pressure of the fingers will some¬ 
times bruise and inflame the sensitive spots. Vapor baths are, possi¬ 
bly, the most successful and least harmful methods of eradicating the 
accumulation of dust and oily deposits that so often fill the pores of 
the skin and create what are commonly known as <( black heads. ® A 
vapor bath may be easily taken by holding the face over a vessel of 
boiling water, and covering both the head and the vessel with a cloth 
sufficiently large to prevent the escape of the steam. After fifteen 
minutes’ steaming, the face should be well washed with hot water and 
soap. 

Freckles are either hereditary or are produced by exposure to the sun, 
and in either case are due to an increase in the pigment of the lower 


3 °° 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


layers of the epidermis. To remove them, one must have recourse to 
some simple remedy that will not injure the delicate skin texture. An 
old-fashioned recipe is the following: — 

One ounce of lemon juice, 

A quarter of a dram of powdered borax, 

Half a dram of pulverized sugar. 

Mix well and allow the preparation to stand for several days before 
using. It should then be applied to the face and allowed to remain over 
night. Wind will sometimes freckle a sensitive skin, and in such cases a 
veil of close mesh should be worn whenever the weather is blustery. 

Sunburn may be cured by applying the following lotion: Peel a 
cucumber and let it soak for a few hours in milk, then with the milk 
bathe the affected parts two or three times a day. Lemon juice is excel¬ 
lent for ordinary cases of sunburn, but should never be used when the 
skin is blistered. Elder flower and lavender water are famous for their 
cooling properties. Moth patches are quite difficult to remove, and 
nearly always require professional treatment. 

Wrinkles arise generally from bad health, anxiety, study, or extreme 
old age. Nutritious food, plenty of outdoor exercise, and a cheerful, 
happy temperament retard their formation. Whatever tends to promote 
the general health will aid in preserving the skin in a smooth, un¬ 
wrinkled condition. When the lines are first forming, massage the face 
gently each night for ten minutes, applying small quantities of good 
cold cream with the tips of the fingers. Let the rubbing be upward and 
backward, as the tendency of the face is to fall in forward lines. This 
simple means will remove wrinkles that are only in the outer skin. 
Deep creases in the face are almost impossible to eradicate, but may be 
softened and made less pronounced by treatment of the outer surface. 
Moisture is very beneficial to the complexion. It is a recognized fact 
that the moist atmosphere of England has had much to do in producing 
the beautiful complexion of the English women. 

The woman who wishes to secure a beautiful skin for her child must 
resolve to be steadfast in her efforts and must not look for a speedy or 
sudden transformation. Permanent advantage should be striven for 
rather than immediate effect, which advantage is gained not by outward 
application but by due attention to the laws of health. 


% 

THE SICK ROOM 

Most families are so situated, both as to means and the size of the 
house, as to be unable to command a separate room for sickness. Nor is 
this always necessary or even advisable. While the comfort of the patient 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


30T 


must always be the first consideration, we must not fail to remember 
the convenience of the nurse, especially if she be the mother. Too 
often the care of the invalid is but one of many duties, and to have the 
sick child in her own room is therefore easier than to put him into a 
room by himself. Again, people of moderate means cannot afford to 
undergo the expense entailed by the use of separate apartments, which 
might otherwise be required to lie idle between the several attacks of 
illness in the family. The sleeping chamber of the patient or of the 
mother will usually suffice. In cases of infectious disease, however, 
the patient must be isolated. 

A room on the sunny side of the house, with a south or west exposure, 
is the most desirable location for the home hospital, and as wall paper is 
not considered hygienic, bedroom walls would better * 
have a tinted rather than a papered surface. This is es¬ 
pecially true of a room that is used in sickness. The 
designs on the wall paper are often very annoying to 
a nervous sufferer, and sometimes they are positively 
harmful. In one such instance, to relieve a nervous 
little patient from the fancied bugs and spiders hid 
in the wall paper, an ingenious mother procured 
some sheets of pale rose-tinted print paper from a 
printing office, pasted the sheets of paper together 
and hung them on the wall by means of wire and 
string. Pretty pictures, all of happy subjects, were 
hung over or pinned to the paper. These were 
changed about to relieve monotony. As colors affect 
people differently, in trying this plan, any tint that is a 
favorite with the patient might be substituted for the rose color, 
paper has an advantage over cloth sheets, which are sometimes used, as 
it is prettier, lighter, and more easily kept in place. 

Next to be considered is the floor. One of the rules most strictly ad¬ 
hered to in sanitariums and hospitals is that there shall be no carpets 
used, and as their abolishment in such places involves a scientific prin¬ 
ciple, why not consider them out of place in the home retreat foi the 
sick ? A bare floor, with a few rugs scattered about to deaden sound, is 
conceded by the best authorities to be the only hygienic floor for a sick 



Phe 


room. 

In arranging a room for a sick person, remove all unnecessary furni¬ 
ture. Among the articles that will be found most useful are an easy 
chair; a couch, where the nurses can rest, when opportunity offers, 01 
the patient during convalescence; a footstool; and a chiffoniei, in which 
not only the garments of the patient, but also the bedclothing, can be 
kept in a neat and orderly manner. A commode for adults and larger 




3°2 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


children is a great convenience many times, but the most scrupulous 
care must be exercised in keeping it clean. Rocking chairs should be 
banished, as the rockers so often prove literal stumbling blocks for the 
feet of weary attendants; in short, do not retain any furniture that is in 
the way or is not of practical value. 

The ideal room would be entirely free from plumbing, but, if such 
a room is not available, the plumbing must always be guarded for the 
possible escape of sewer gas. If a toilet or bath-room adjoins the sick 
chamber, the door should be kept closed, and where a stationary wash¬ 
basin exists in the room, it is well to fill the holes in bottom and side 
and cover the top with a board. These precautions are wise, even where 
there is the best of plumbing. 

A few suggestions about the room and its care in case of infectious 
diseases may not be amiss here. If a disease of a contagious or an in¬ 
fectious character is suspected, remove from an isolated room all um 
necessary drapings and furniture, dress the bed in absolutely clean 
bedding, convey the patient to the room as speedily as possible, arrange 
for his nurse, supply her with everything she may need, and let the other 
members of the family keep their distance unless absolutely needed. 
The family physician will immediately report the case to the health 
officers and quarantine regulations must be strictly adhered to. I would 
emphasize the necessity, however, of disinfecting everything that comes 
in contact with the patient, or that is used in the room. Especially 
should great care be exercised in the treatment of the clothes to be 
laundered; they should be rinsed in Platt’s Chlorides or some equally 
good antiseptic solution, and boiling water, and thoroughly aired before 
they are put with other washing. I know of an instance where neglect 
of this latter precaution caused the spread of diphtheria in the family of a 
laundress and the death of three of her children. Any style of bedstead 
may be used, but the single, white enameled, iron bedstead is best 
adapted for this purpose. Wooden bedsteads are frequently the source 
of trouble, as they catch the dust and form admirable breeding ground for 
germs and vermin, no matter how scrupulously clean they may be kept. 

In case vermin should appear, despite all precautions, the bed should 
be cleansed with a solution of corrosive sublimate, about one-half ounce 
to a pint of water. As this is a deadly poison and many fear to use it as 
freely as is necessary, the following formula is much in vogue among 
housekeepers: — 

Potassium nitrate, one ounce, 

Ammonia water, two ounces, 

Soap shavings, one ounce, 

Water, one quart. 

Directions — Apply very freely with a long-handled brush. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 303 

Casters are quite an important feature of the perfect bed, therefore 
creaking and obstreperous ones should be replaced with those that 
move easily and silently. The bed should stand out from the wall, and 
as near the center of the room as possible to permit of free access to the 
patient. The mattress should be made of hair or felt and covered with 
some light covering beneath the lower sheet. Many mattresses sink in 
the center from the weight of the patient and the material in that part 
becomes impacted, resulting in an uncomfortable depression. Care 
should be taken to overcome this defect by placing a pad of some ma¬ 
terial under the hollow place. Feather mattresses never should be used 
in a sick room. 

It has been recommended by many practical nurses that a number of 
pillows of various sizes and shapes be employed, in addition to the one or 
two usually found on the ordinary bed. These may be made of cotton 
or wool, if the more expensive ones of feather or down are beyond the 
means of the family. Cotton sheets have the double advantage of being 
cheaper and more easily laundered, and are far better, than linen ones, 
since the chilliness occasioned by the linen sheet is repugnant to most 
sick people. It is economy to use three sheets, and in the best hospitals, 
sanitariums, and among trained nurses that method is usually adopted. 
The first sheet is drawn tightly and smoothly over and fastened with 
safety pins at the corners of the mattress. When occasion requires the 
use of a rubber sheet, this is fastened in like manner and covered with a 
draw-sheet, which is folded to the size of the rubber and tucked in at the 
sides of the bed. The use of the draw-sheet obviates the necessity of 
entirely remaking the bed when a change of linen is desired, as it can be 
withdrawn and another readily substituted with but little disturbance to 
the patient. 

The disadvantages of the rubber sheet are, first, its liability to 
wrinkle; second, the tendency to cause perspiration; third, the combina¬ 
tion of both these aggravations, producing bed sores. The rubber sheet 
should therefore never be used except in those cases where there is rea¬ 
son to suspect that the discharges from the patient will soil the bed. 

It is not a very difficult task to change the sheet while the patient is 
in bed without disturbing him. There are two methods employed by 
nurses— the usual one of rolling the sheet into a cylinder, and a newer 
one offering some advantages, of folding the sheet in accordion-like 
folds. The first method is accomplished by rolling the soiled sheet 
lengthwise, beginning at the edge of the bed and rolling toward the 
patient, till it reaches him. A clean sheet, rolled in a similar manner, is 
unrolled over the space thus uncovered, the free end having first been 
tucked into the side of the bed to prevent slipping when drawn tightly. 
The patient is then turned — or lifted if he is too weak to move of his 


3 ° 4 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


own volition — upon the clean sheet, the soiled one is removed, and the 
clean one is drawn to the other side by unrolling. 

The second method is easier to manipulate because the sheet lies 
flat, and by catching hold of the top fold the whole sheet may be opened 
with a slight pull. In folding, the sheet is spread out and alternate 
folds, six inches in width, running lengthwise of the sheet, are made. In 
order to get the folded sheet under the patient, raise his head and pull 
the upper part of the folds under him; the lower part may be got under 
the limbs in the same manner, then by depressing the mattress and 
grasping the folds in the center, the sheet can be gradually worked be¬ 
neath the patient. 

To change the upper sheet without exposing the patient, loosen the 
bedclothes from the foot of the bed, tuck in a clean sheet, or sheet 
and blanket, if desired, draw these up to the waist or chest of the patient, 
reach under the clean covers and gently withdraw the soiled ones. 
These should always be thoroughly aired before they come in contact 
with other unlaundered clothes. Unless otherwise instructed by the 
physician, the sheets should be changed daily. The patient will appreciate 
the efforts for his comfort and it will help to break the monotony of his 
illness. When you cannot change the sheets, pull them as tight as possi¬ 
ble and tuck them in the sides of the bed, as this will freshen them up a 
bit. 

The pillow-cases ought to be changed as often as, if not more fre¬ 
quently than, the sheets, as they become uncomfortably heated from the 
constant pressure of the head, especially when the patient is suffering 
from fever. When a patient is restless, the pillows should be frequently 
shaken to air them, and make them feel cooler. Never begin to change 
the linen of the bed or person till everything needed to replace the soiled 
clothing has been aired and warmed and placed where it can be immedi¬ 
ately reached. 

And now just a word about the bed covers. It is well to remember 
that cumbersome bedding is debilitating and uncomfortable. Eider¬ 
down quilts, though light, are likely to cause excessive perspiration. Two 
light coverings which allow an air space between them are warmer and 
lighter than a single heavy one, and a sheet and two single blankets are 
usually all that are necessary. Undue warmth is weakening, and perspi¬ 
ration causes the bed and bedclothing to become damp, hot, and sticky, a 
very undesirable trio of conditions. 

In some instances, the patient is unable to bear the weight of the bed¬ 
clothes. When this is the case, a support for the clothes can be made by 
fastening to laths the ends of several barrel hoops that have been cut in 
halves, and inserting the device under the clothing at 'the foot of the 
bed. Or by spreading the half hoops and fastening them in the center 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 305 

to a lath, a device may be made that will slip over the patient and 
relieve him of the weight of the bed covering. 

There are three special points to be observed about the condition of 
beds for the sick. There should be cleanliness, no ridges, and no 
crumbs. One of the latest devices to guard against the last mentioned 
inconvenience, is the little invalid table, which is so constructed that the 
upright portion of the stand can be placed upon the floor and the leaf or 
shelf swung over the bed and adjusted to the position and needs of the 
patient. This, of course, presupposes the patient to be so far convales¬ 
cent as to be able to partake of solid food. For a similar purpose bed 
crays are sometimes employed. They are about two and a half feet 
long and a foot and a quarter wide, surrounded by a low rim on three 
sides, the side next to the patient being minus the rim. This tray is 
provided with short legs, of sufficient length, however, to keep the weight 
of the tray from the limbs of the patient. 


Heat 

The problem of heating the sick room is always a difficult one, 
depending, as it does, upon so many different factors. An even tem¬ 
perature is the point sought. To ascertain the presence of an equable 
temperature, a thermometer must be placed near the center of the room, 
an equal distance from the window and the source of heat, this being 
the best point from which to obtain the average temperature. 

A thermometer hung near a window will show a lower temperature 
than will be found elsewhere in the room, because the draughts from 
the poorly-fitting window cases will have the effect of lowering the 
temperature of the room at that point. If it is placed near the fire, 
it follows, of course, that the instruments will show a rise in temper¬ 
ature. These two extremes will lead to a false impression as to the 
actual condition of the room, and either too much heat will be added, 
or too much cold air admitted. The best temperature for a sick room 
is about 70 degrees F., although five degrees less may be allowed with 
comfort when the patient is suffering from a disease attended by a high 
temperature. If an ordinary stove is used, one burning wood is pref¬ 
erable, as it not only gives a more cheerful fire, but at the same time 
does away with the danger of coal gas. An open fireplace is, how¬ 
ever, the best means of heating, affording, as it does, opportunities for 
ventilation as well as warmth. Whatever the method of heating, care 
should be taken to put on fuel in such a manner as to make as little 
noise as possible. Coal can be wrapped in old newspapers and the 
bundle placed in the stove, and a wooden poker is a good substitute 
for the noisy iron one. 


1—20 


3°6 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


Ventilation 

Fully as important as the question of heat, and one demanding as 
much care and consideration, is that of ventilation. If a well person 
needs ventilation in the house and bedroom, of how much greater 
importance must it be to one who is ill! The fact that a sick per¬ 
son does not move about in the open air, and thus have the opportunity 
of filling his lungs with oxygen, is an evidence that a greater supply 
of air is necessary in the sick chamber than in an ordinary room. 
Protracted illness is rendered more tedious, and the convalescence more 
prolonged, from a lack of proper ventilation during the time the pa¬ 
tient is confined to the bed. After the period of convalescence has 
so far progressed as to admit of the patient going out of doors, we 
see the magical effect of pure air upon the blood by the rapid return 
of color to the cheeks. 

Although we find sufficient ventilation to be thus always impor¬ 
tant, still we find ourselves obliged to use various means to secure it. 
Suppose a room has two windows facing each other: the top sash of 
each should be drawn down about three inches; this will give a con¬ 
tinuous current of air, but far enough above the bed to prevent a 
draught. The same course may be followed when there is only one 
window. From careful observation it will be clearly seen that 
the same object is accomplished, but in a slightly different man¬ 
ner. It is a well-known law of physics that hot air rises and cold 
air descends, the latter being denser and consequently heavier 
than the former. In the case of two windows, it will be seen that 
the draught passes directly from the top of one window to that of 
the other, but as it is heavier than the hot air it falls to the floor 
gradually and evenly so that its effect is insensible. In the case of 
one window, the current of air enters at the top and falls more or 
less directly downward along the sides of the wall, pushing, so to 
speak, the hot air in front of it, not unlike the old-fashioned snowplow 
that carried everything before it. 

Another mode of ventilation is to raise the window from the bot¬ 
tom about three inches, and place across the opening, and two inches in 
front of it, a strip of wood about eight inches high. By this means 
the air enters the room in an upward direction, without producing a 
direct draught upon the patient. This is practically reversing the 
method just described. 

The indirect method of ventilation is perhaps to be preferred to 
either of those just mentioned, in cases where cold air is liable to produce 
ill effects, as in bronchitis or pneumonia. To accomplish the result by 
this method, fill the adjoining room with fresh air and allow it to filter 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


307 


gradually through an open door. As convenience dictates, the choice of 
introducing the air into the room may be accomplished by one of two 
ways: either by filling the room with cold air and closing all doors and 
windows except the door leading into the sick room, or by keeping one 
or more windows open all of the time. 

Where possible, in cases of fever, a current of fresh air should be al¬ 
lowed to pass continually into the room, as this helps to dissipate the 
peculiar odors usually accompanying these diseases. Care should be 
taken, also, to dispense with the hangings and all unnecessary packages 
or vessels around or under the bed, as they interfere with the circulation 
of air and afford opportunity for the collection of dust. 

Growing plants are not only a cheerful adjunct to the sick room, but 
are an aid to ventilation and purification of the air, as they give off a 
supply of oxygen that is beneficial. They must, however, always be re¬ 
moved from a sleeping room at night. There is seldom any objection to 
cut flowers, especially during the period of convalescence, when they are 
usually hailed with delight. A patient cannot always eat, even the 
daintiest food; and flowers are much the safer and more acceptable ex¬ 
pression of love and remembrance. A little care given to their preser¬ 
vation will enhance their beauty and utility. The following suggestions 
will be found helpful in keeping flowers fresh: Clip the stems in a di¬ 
agonal direction, lay them over night in a bowl of fresh water, or place 
them in a box, sprinkle well, cover tightly to exclude air, and put them 
outside of the window or in some convenient place where they will keep 
cool. 

Although ventilation is such an essential, yet the construction and 
arrangement of the room often makes it very difficult to obtain. The 
bed is usually so situated that a direct draught more or less harmful 
will fall upon the patient if the windows be open. To obviate this, a 
light screen, one which can be easily moved from place to place, should 
be interposed between the bed and the window. This is particularly 
necessary with children at night, because of the difficulty encountered in 
keeping them properly covered. Heavy embroidered or velvet screens 
should not be used, as they collect dust and germs and give a somber, 
stuffy appearance to the room. A light bamboo frame, covered with 
China silk, silkaline, or some similar goods, is best for the sick room, as 
at the end of the illness the material can be destroyed without loss to the 
household. 

Another reason for screens is found in the necessity for keeping the 
glare of the light from the eyes; particularly when the patient is suffer¬ 
ing from fever. In nearly all such cases, the eyes are exceedingly 
sensitive to light. An improvised screen can be made by covering an 
ordinary clothes-horse with a sheet or shawl. To children who tire very 


3©8 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


quickly of their surroundings and need frequent changes, especially dur¬ 
ing the tedious days of convalescence, such a screen can be made a 
source of much amusement by the simple means of pinning upon it pic¬ 
tures in various designs. If the child be strong enough and old enough 
to sit up in bed, he may cut figures of dolls, men, or animals, and have 
his nurse fasten them on the sheet. A screen in which the panels are 
made of white cheese-cloth or cotton is well adapted to such arrange¬ 
ments. By inventing a story of some sort, these figures may be employed 
to pass away many a weary hour. 

Care of Food 

One of the annoyances of the sick room is the difficulty of keeping 
food hot or cold. The impatience of the sufferer makes it undesirable 
for him to be kept waiting until the nurse can go to the kitchen, to say 
nothing of the extra labor on the part of the nurse. In contagious 
diseases, also, it is out of the question for the nurse to do so, as she 
will thereby come in contact with other members of the family. A 
small alcohol lamp, with a stand attachment, can be kept burning all 
the time that is necessary, without producing sufficient heat to increase 
the temperature of the room. Additional advantages are found in the 
economy of space and small cost of maintenance. 

For keeping things cold, a small bed-room refrigerator can be ob¬ 
tained for a small sum. After the illness, it can be utilized for the ordi¬ 
nary use of the kitchen, provided it is^ thoroughly disinfected and 
cleansed. These refrigerators have three compartments, one for milk, 
another for fruit, and a third for ice. 

If one of these ice-boxes cannot be obtained, the best method of pre¬ 
serving the ice is to wrap it in several thicknesses of paper. Ordinary 
newspaper will answer the purpose. The package is then enveloped in 
a piece of old flannel and placed on a cup or bowl, which in turn has been 
placed bottom upward in a basin or pan. The milk, jelly, broth, and 
other food to be kept cold is then placed in the basin where it soon 
becomes cool. The basin or pan is covered with a towel and placed near 
a window, or, better still, upon a small shelf outside of the window, 
if there be sufficient shade. All food or water must be securely covered 
if kept in the sick room. When ice is not available, the water, milk, 
or food can be cooled slightly by wrapping the pitcher or other vessel in 
a damp towel and standing it outside of the window. 

Much of the success of a nurse depends upon her ability to anticipate 
the wants of a patient, and to be ready at a moment’s notice to serve his 
food and drink in a palatable and acceptable form. For this reason it 
should be her first care upon assuming charge of a patient to see that she 
is provided with the necessary appliances for nursing. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


3°9 


The Relation of Employer and Nurse 

When a family is obliged to employ a nurse without having had any 
previous acquaintance with nurses, or when a nurse that has before 
proved satisfactory is engaged elsewhere, the very best adviser is a physi¬ 
cian. 1 his is especially true when the sickness is of a serious character 
and requires the service of a trained nurse. In ordinary illnesses, un¬ 
skilled assistance may be sufficient; but in severe and critical cases, 
experience, skill, and special training on the part of the nurse arc indis¬ 
pensable. It is obvious without argument that the physician is the one 
person most likely to know, either from his own acquaintance or that of 
his colleagues, just what particular nurse is best adapted to the case in 
hand. 

The educated nurse is a connecting link, long missing, between the 
physician and the patient. She has a semi-professional standing, there¬ 
fore, and cannot be classed with the unskilled laborers of the household. 
Provision has to be made for her accordingly, in respect to meals, sleep¬ 
ing apartments, and assistance that may be required from the kitchen 
service and elsewhere in order to carry on the work. In short, every 
facility ought to be provided to enable her to discharge her duties well 
and to keep herself in good physical and mental condition. The duties 
of her office are often onerous and exhausting, and she cannot endure the 
strain long without intermission and friendly support. 

I have known cases where a nurse was supposed to be able to watch 
day and night with no intermission for rest, sleep, or outdoor exercises 
for a period of several days. Now, while in an emergency any nurse 
will endure unbroken fatigue for thirty-six hours, or even longer, it is 
only in rare and urgent cases that this is necessary. Aid ought to be at 
hand sufficient to allow the nurse one or two hours’ outing each day, and 
rest in bed equivalent to eight hours. 

Several difficulties often arise in regard to sick-room etiquette, more 
from lack of thought than from lack of courtesy on the part of the home- 
keeper. . Of these, the vexing question of washing has perhaps most 
often given trouble. To a careful observer, it seems that in justice to 
the patient, as well as to the nurse, she should not be asked to do any 
washing, save perhaps in obstetrical cases, when she may be expected 
to wash some of the baby’s clothing. 

Another troublesome point is what to do with the nurse at meal¬ 
time; but a little consideration will show that when the case is so se¬ 
rious as to demand her unvarying attention, the meals may be sent to 
the sick room; otherwise some member of the family may remain with 
the patient, and the nurse be invited to the dining-room. Her training 
entitles her to this courtesy and to all others due to a lady. A good and 


3 IQ 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


competent nurse is an aid and comfort to every one concerned—to 
the patient, to the family, and to the physician. She has spent labori¬ 
ous years in acquiring the necessary skill and knowledge to enable 
her to assume the responsibilities of her work, and she is entitled to 
consideration accordingly. 

Hints on Nursing 

The following hints are given as possible aids to the mother when 
obliged to assume the duties of a nurse. A trained nurse, of course, 
would already be conversant with these simple rules of the sick room: 

Never say, <( Dr. Blank does thus and so,® for you are not employing 
Dr. Blank, and must follow the directions of the attending physician. 

Always arrange for a liberal amount of light, unless there be specific 
reasons for excluding it. 

Never give a dose of medicine until you have first read the label to 
be sure you are right, for no matter how sure you may be that you have 
placed a bottle in a particular place, some one may have changed it. 

Always hold a bottle from which you are pouring medicine with the 
label upward; this will keep the contents from soiling the label. 

Never administer a dangerous medicine except upon the advice of a 
physician. 

Never allow visitors in the sick room except with the consent of the 
physician in charge. 

Never ask a patient what he desires to eat, for nine times out of ten 
he will want the very thing he ought not to have. 

Never leave food uncovered in the sick room. If it is desired to use 
what has been left over, put it in a place where it will keep fresh and 
serve it in another dish; it will prove more appetizing. 

Remember that sick people are more exacting and fastidious, as a 
rule, than those who are well. 

Never fill a dish with fruit; a small quantity maybe relished and 
easily digested, while a larger quantity will prove harmful; if more is 
desired, it will be better to give it at another time. Eating is often the 
only break in the monotony of a sick room, and is therefore doubly wel¬ 
come, and may be indulged in more frequently than in health, but only 
small quantities must be taken at a time. 

Never permit any one to sit on the side of the bed, as it is very dis¬ 
agreeable to many patients, particularly if they are of a nervous or irri¬ 
table temperament. 

Every noise must be carefully guarded against; rattling windows, or 
blinds, or creaking chairs, should be attended to at once. Rustling 
skirts, crackling newspapers, and similar petty noises are very distracting 
and annoying to a sick person. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 31 i 

Do not talk to the patient more than is absolutely necessary, as it 
disturbs him, even though he be interested in the subject. 

Never worry him with the details of the household cares, nor tell of 
the misfortunes of friends and neighbors. 

Do not allow visitors to tell harrowing tales of the illness of others 
similarly affected ; it has a depressing effect on the patient. 

Never permit loud conversation in the sick room. If a visitor should 
forget himself as to the style or manner of conversation, it is your duty 
to remind him of the error. 

While loud talking is always reprehensible and should be guarded 
against, still the nurse must also remember that to the patient there 
are few things more exciting than a whispered conversation. It is 
true that those indulging in it are doing so with the very best intent, but 
the patient, believing that it has something to do with the outcome of 
his case, strains his attention in the effort to hear it. His failure to 
do so only excites him the more, and leaves him to imagine all sorts 
of unfavorable things about his illness, which he thinks are being kept 
from him. It is better to talk in a low, yet in a distinct tone, so that 
he may hear without annoyance; for nothing should be said in his 
possible hearing which may not be desirable for him to know. 


The Family Physician 

Respecting the physician of the family, little need here be said. 
But there are two problems concerning him which oftentimes present 
themselves, and are a cause of embarrassment. The first problem re¬ 
gards the choice of a physician, and the second and more complicated 
has reference to a change of physicians. 

As to the first, it need only be said that the family doctor ought 
not to be chosen haphazard, by rushing out of doors in an emergency 
and bringing in the owner of the first doctor’s sign that is seen. For 
strangers in a strange place, the recommendation of sensible neighbors 
ought to be a sufficient guide; or the opinion of a clergyman in the 
place, or of any other person whose standing will entitle his preference 
to respect. Where families are not strangers, their opinions respecting 
the comparative value, to them, of this or that physician, are sure to be 
formed already by knowing the judgment of the community. 

The more difficult question is how to make a change of physicians 
during the progress of an illness, without doing wrong to any, and with¬ 
out infringing on professional etiquette. Nevertheless the mattei is 
quite simple, if fairly considered for a moment. The family employing 
the physician have an unquestioned right to dismiss him whenever they 
choose so to do. Even if they do so under a wrong estimate of the value 


312 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


of the physician’s work, or an undervaluation of his skill and competency 
in the case, they have the right. Responsibility for results rests with 
the family. 

Now, to effect such dismissal gracefully and in such way as not to un¬ 
necessarily wound the natural feelings of the doctor, recpiires kindness, 
frankness, and intelligence. Too often the anxious and painstaking 
physician is dismissed from attendance in a rude and insulting manner. 
This arises from ignorance and embarrassment combined. The doctor 
should be told that the friends of the sick one have become alarmed, 
thinking that the patient was not making the progress they ought to ex¬ 
pect, and that they have decided, while fully conscious of the physician’s 
devotion and good-will, to try a change of treatment. Regret may be 
expressed that such a course seems necessary, and all possible kindness, 
by word and act, ought to be shown the physician. This leaves oppor¬ 
tunity also for a return afterward to the same physician, when future 
experience may have proved that he was more desirable than had been 
supposed. 

Difficulties arise also in the arrangement of consultation, • when it 
is desired by the family, but is not deemed necessary by the physician. 
Here, again, the family have the right to request that counsel shall be 
called, and likewise to express preference for some particular physician. 
Usually the attendant will acquiesce willingly, but if he objects, either to 
the physician suggested or to consultation with any other physician, he 
is at liberty to do so and to resign the case. This leaves the family free 
to make whatever arrangements they may deem best. 

To this must be added that the family cannot call in another physi¬ 
cian until the first has been relieved, or has voluntarily resigned. This 
is evident from the fact that the utmost confidence should exist between 
the physician and the family. Nurse and patient obey only with half¬ 
heartedness the directions given by a doctor whose personality is dis¬ 
liked or whose ability is questioned. If he feels such a lack of confi¬ 
dence he cannot give his best thought and attention to the case, and 
it is therefore only justice to him to make the change unless you can 
give him full confidence. The relation between the family and the 
physician is one involving the issues of life and death, and therefore of 
the first importance. The clearest justice and right-mindedness are 
needed on both sides to keep the relation at its best. 

Having seen that the sick room is comfortably provided with every 
necessary, that it is well warmed and well aired, that appetizing meals 
are served in it, cheerful conversation prevails in it, a neat nurse pre¬ 
sides over it, and a good doctor visits it every day, let us hope that it will 
speedily make itself unnecessary and resolve itself back into an ordinary 
bedroom. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


3 T 3 

t 

PREMONITORY SYMPTOMS OF DISEASE 

Every one having the care of children should know the early indica¬ 
tions of disease and the significance thereof. If the signs and symptoms 
of the more common disorders are not already known, there should be no 
delay in learning them, as such knowledge is easily accessible. Add to 
this the exercise of a little common sense and patience, and not only will 
needless heartaches be spared the mother and unnecessary suffering of 
the child be averted, but often impending disease of a serious nature will 
be arrested. 

Early recognition of disease in infancy is of the utmost importance, 
because the feeble resistance at this period makes delay dangerous. In 
making an examination of a child to determine his ailment, there are 
several fairly accurate guides, the importance of which, however, is usu¬ 
ally evident only to the trained observer. To the mother, many of the 
avenues of investigation are closed, since only an experienced physician 
has the necessary knowledge and skill to examine them. Many serious 
cases have followed the errors of home diagnosis, and it must be obvious 
to every one that the non-professional lacks the necessary discrimination 
and judgment. For example, a slight, apparently insignificant, symptom, 
that is overlooked or passed by as of no real value, may be to the 
physician the key to the diagnosis. 

As speech is not developed in the infant, we are obliged to interpret 
his condition by objective means, i. e., by physical signs; for instance, 
the site of the pain may be revealed by characteristic movements or by 
the position of the hand, which will almost inevitably light upon the re¬ 
gion of discomfort. The flexing of the thighs upon the abdomen in in¬ 
testinal pain or colic is instinctive and not from design. 

Likewise, the temper of the child is sometimes an index of the state 
of his health. Fretfulness, peevishness, crossness, or crying, is fre¬ 
quently the forerunner of disease. The cry is many times character¬ 
istic, and when it precedes, accompanies, or follows any activity of the 
body, it may safely be assumed that it is an indication of pain in the 
parts affected by such movements. To illustrate, movement of the head 
in certain directions, accompanied by a cry, would indicate earache, 
and when the child picks or claws at the ear the diagnosis is con¬ 
firmed. A cry succeeding a cough would seem to indicate pain in the 
chest. If it accompanies swallowing, it shows that the throat is sore, 
or that the tonsils are inflamed. Evacuations of the bowels or bladder, 
followed by crying, would be an evidence of trouble in one of these 
localities. 


3 T 4 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


In attempting to ascertain the nature of the child’s ailment, the 
mother must consider: (i) the cry; (2) the breathing; (3) the pulse; 
(4) the temperature; (5) the posture; (6) the gestures; (7) the expres¬ 
sion; ( 3 ) the tongue; (9) the urine; (10) the skin. 


The Cry 

It is a well-known fact that attendants and nurses who have had 
the special care of infants, and opportunity for the observation of them, 
can detect such slight shades of difference in the cry of infants as to 
be able to diagnosticate the cause of the distress. 

A constant cry may indicate hunger, thirst, earache, or some form 
of continuous pain, of which the nature of the sound is an indication. 
If, after the child is fed or drinks water, the cry ceases, the source of 
trouble is ascertained. But many times, as in colic, the feeding does 
more harm than good, and in a short time the cry is renewed. In 
earache the cry, while constant, loud, and shrieking,- rises and falls, 
with a more or less rhythmic motion. This is due to the character 
of the pain. Sometimes the change in volume is scarcely perceptible, 
yet with a little care it can be noted. This is characteristic of no 
other trouble. It should not, however, be confounded with the par¬ 
oxysmal cry. 

Paroxysmal Cry — This cry is very severe for a time, then there is 
an entire cessation, followed by a sudden outbreak. It is caused most 
commonly by colic, with distention of the abdomen; also from pins in 
the clothing sticking into the body. 

Nervous Cry — Babies cry from fear, fright, loneliness, and sleep¬ 
lessness. The various surroundings will naturally suggest to the mother 
the cause of such cries, as a little noticing and comforting will distract 
the infant’s attention, and he will gradually relax and quiet down, 
and, possibly, soon fall asleep. 

Peevish Cry —This usually occurs in children in poor health, when 
there is a lack of nourishment of the tissues. Such infants are pale, 
weak, and puny. 

Screaming Cry —The shriek, or shrill cry, piercing and intermit¬ 
tent, generally indicates brain trouble. 

Moaning Cry — This indicates that the child is so weak and ex¬ 
hausted that he is physically unable to cry louder, and the low moan 
is heard deep in the throat or chest. It is sometimes called <( chest 
cry.” This is not infrequent in pneumonia, pleurisy, and other forms 
of lung trouble. The pain produced by the deeper breathing re¬ 
quired by the crying is soon felt and the cry sinks to a moan. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 315 

Croupy Cry —Every one is familiar with the hoarse, stridulous cry 
of the child attacked with croup or sore throat. 

Sleepy Cry — This cry, accompanied with restlessness and rubbing 
of the eyes, is sufficiently familiar to need no explanation. 

Temper Cry — No child, no matter how amiable he may be, but has 
given utterance to cries of this character at some period of his exist¬ 
ence. It is usually easily known from its associated cause, which may 
be the deprivation of some much-desired object. 

Nasal Cry —The stuffy, nasal, twangy cry indicates cold in the 
head. 

Muffled Cry — Tonsillitis, sore throat, mumps, or other forms of 
swelling in the throat give rise to the muffled cry. 


Respiration 

« 

In addition to the various characteristic cries, the mother has also 
the nature of the respiration to guide her in diagnosing diseased con¬ 
ditions. In the healthy adult the number of respirations is sixteen 
per minute. They are somewhat slower when asleep, and greatly 
increased during or immediately following active exercise. They may 
be more accurately taken while the individual is lying in a comfort¬ 
able position than when either sitting or standing. The same rule 
holds good with regard to the temperature and pulse. To count the 
number of respirations, the best method is to place the palm of the hand 
upon the chest of the patient, when the rising and falling of the chest 
walls which accompanies inspiration and expiration will be distincly seen 
and felt. However, if the patient is conscious that you are watching his 
breathing, he will be unable to breathe naturally, and will unconsciously 
increase or decrease the number of respirations per minute. It is well, 
therefore, to resort to a little artifice, or to make the examination when 
the patient is asleep. Respiration below twelve or above thirty to the 
minute portends danger, and there should be no delay in seeking medical 
advice. 

The Pulse 

The contraction of the heart forces the blood stream through the 
various arteries of the body. The elasticity of the walls of the larger 
vessels permits of expansion under this pressure, followed by_ contrac¬ 
tion, and this alternate distention and reduction is called the pulse. As 
the heart itself cannot be seen, and as its movements are felt or heard 
only with difficulty by the experienced, the pulse becomes a reliable 
guide to, or indicator of, the heart’s action. 


3 l6 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


An increase or a decrease in the number of the heart beats, above 

or below normal, would be an evidence of some abnormal condition 

* 

present. The pulse may be quickened in such manner by a sudden 
fright, shock, or over-exertion. If so, the number of beats will return 
to normal upon the cessation of the cause. If, however, it continues 
at a more rapid rate, it is an evidence that the cause is deeper seated 
and more permanent in character. Difficulty of breathing, fever, or 
exhaustion, will also cause an increased pulse; while hemorrhage, brain 
trouble, and certain affections of the kidneys will cause a slowing of the 
pulse. Generally speaking, however, the pulse serves as a guide to the 
height of the feve.r, apd as such is a valuable sign to the mother. 

In addition to the pulse rate, the character of the pulse is an impor¬ 
tant sign. If feeble or intermittent, it shows the heart to be in danger of 
collapse. A full, bounding pulse is likely to signify the onset of a high 
fever accompanied with delirium. 

The normal pulse rate in the adult is 72 beats per minute; in chil¬ 
dren, from 80 to 90 beats, and in infants, 10, 20 or 30 beats higher. It 
varies more than other functional movements of the bodily organs, be¬ 
cause the heart is more susceptible to sudden influences. 

The old method of determining the existence and height of a fever 
was by means of the pulse. While this is a fair guide in the absence of 
more accurate methods, it is so uncertain and subject to so many dis¬ 
turbing influences that it is not reliable, except to assist in determining 
the action of the heart. 

To count the pulse, place the index and middle fingers of the right 
hand upon the inside of the patient’s wrist, and the thumb opposite, i. e. y 
on the back of the wrist. By making a slight pressure, the pulsations 
will be readily felt. It is better to count a full minute and then repeat, 
to assure correctness. 


The Temperature 

Taking the temperature of the body during sickness is attended with 
many difficulties, and only one accustomed to it can give an accurate 
opinion as to its true value. In a general way, it may be said that a high 
temperature indicates fever, and fever is an evidence that rapid and ex¬ 
cessive tissue changes are taking place. It is one of the almost constant 
symptoms of disease, particularly in children. Commonly, it is the first 
intimation of an approaching illness. As a rule, the more intense the 
fever, the greater the degree of illness. It is important, therefore, that 
certain fundamental facts concerning the temperature of the body be 
known, in order to detect any deviation from the normal. 

The normal temperature of the body is 98.6 degrees F. in the 
adult, but is slightly higher in children — about 99 degrees. A range of 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


317 


temperature of more than one degree above or below normal indicates 
the presence or onset of disease. So that in the child the presence of a 
temperature above 100 or below 98 degrees would be the occasion for 
inquiry as to the cause thereof. 

It will be found that the temperature is highest between six and nine 
o’clock, evening, and lowest between three and six o’clock, morning. 
The former is designated as the evening temperature and the latter the 
morning temperature. In sickness the temperature is therefore usually 
taken at nine or ten o’clock in the morning and about four or five in the 
afternoon. 

When you use the thermometer, take it, bulb end downward, and 
shake it carefully, until the mercury falls several degrees below normal. 
Do not shake it sufficiently to force all the mercury into the bulb, as 
it will take too long for it to rise. Previous to and after using, it is 
always necessary to wash the instrument in water and wipe it dry. The 
bulb should then be placed beneath the child’s tongue, and the lips, not 
the teeth, pressed tightly over it to exclude the air. 

It is more satisfactory to take the temperature of an infant in the arm- 
pit or in the groin. It requires about three minutes in either case to 
get a proper registration. When necessary to take the temperature sev¬ 
eral times a day, the result should be recorded each time on a sheet of 
paper prepared and kept for this purpose; and the instrument should be 
placed, and allowed to remain when not in use, in a glass containing a 
solution of bichloride of mercury (y-gVtj-), or alcohol. To prevent the 
thermometer from being broken by contact with the bottom of the glass, 
a piece of absorbent cotton should be placed in the bottom. Always 
rinse off the thermometer immediately on taking it out of the solution. 

In selecting a thermometer, do not be guided by the price, for the 
cheap ones are never accurate, and one offered at a greatly reduced price 
is sure to prove defective and inefficient. The self-registering variety is 
by far the best and most satisfactory. 


Posture 

The child readily learns from experience that certain postures will 
ease pain or discomfort. In colic he will draw his thighs up to the ab¬ 
domen, as this relaxes the abdominal muscles and relieves the tension. 
Certain diseased conditions of the brain are known by the position of the 
child’s head; for instance, the head may be drawn back and the neck be¬ 
come rigid, and remain for a long time in this position. Again, there 
may be a constant tossing of the head from side to side, as in cerebro¬ 
spinal meningitis. Or perhaps the child may lie in a stupid condition, 
taking little or no notice of his surroundings. This may show exhaus- 


•>t8 anatomy, physiology, and pathology 

tion, or it may indicate that the system is overwhelmed with the poison 
of the disease. 

Not only is posture of significance, but so also is gesture. It has long 
been the custom among mothers to attribute picking at the nose to the 
presence of worms. This sign is sometimes of real diagnostic value, only 
confirmed, however, by detecting the worms themselves. It is also 
known that picking at the bedclothes is an indication of extreme danger 
to the patient. The hand pressed to the ear or clawing at the ear shows 
the existence of earache. In convulsions, the toes and fingers are stiff¬ 
ened and the thumb may be pressed tightly upon the palm of the hand. 

Every one who has had the least experience in the sick room knows 
that the expression of the face changes with the disease. In colic the 
face is distorted; in diarrhea it becomes white, pinched and shriveled,- 
in fever it is flushed; in whooping cough it becomes swollen, dusky and 
congested. A rapid distention of the nostrils is an evidence of difficult 
breathing. Pain is usually accompanied, even in sleep, with wrinkling 
of the forehead. 


The Tongue 

It is -usually necessary, or at least desirable, to examine the tongue. 
In children this is often an exceedingly difficult and exasperating proced¬ 
ure, taxing the patience of all concerned. Moreover, the vain attempts, 
pleadings, coaxings, or threats have a bad effect on the little patient, and 
may give rise to temporary symptoms, such as irregularity of pulse and 
breathing, that may cause an error in diagnosis. 

The mother should early teach her child to put out his tongue and 
open his mouth wide when told to do so. When the child is afraid 
or obstinate, it is extremely desirable that he should not be frightened 
or lose confidence in the mother or nurse by being forced to submit to 
the procedure, when it is necessary to examine his mouth or throat. 
Numerous plans have been suggested to accomplish this end, the one 
used in some of our infant asylums and children’s hospitals being at¬ 
tended with the greatest success. The finger is placed on the little 
one’s lips, which, when felt, will cause the mouth to open, the child 
believing it to be his food. By rapidly passing the finger over the 
tongue and drawing it slightly forward, the throat, the gums and the 
state of the tongue can readily be seen. A little dexterity, brought 
about by faithful practice, will save much trouble and inconvenience 
to both mother and child. 

The tongue becomes coated from two sources, local and systemic. 
Decayed teeth, catarrh and sore throat are examples of the first, while 
nervous strain, loss of sleep, indigestion, etc., are causes of the second. 
The coating of the tongue, especially the base (back), just after eating 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


3 1 9 


is, of course, frequent, and without significance. This is especially 
true of bottle-fed babies, whose tongues are often coated with a thick 
white layer of milk or starchy material used in the food. On the tip 
of the tongue, coating indicates disease of the stomach, liver or in¬ 
testines. In constipation due to, or connected with, stomach trouble, 
a dirty patch is seen in the center of the tongue, with red, clean edges 
and tip. A thick brown fur indicates biliousness. The mottled ap¬ 
pearance so often seen on the tongues of children results from the 
general impairment of nutrition. In such cases the skin or mucous 
membrane of the tongue peels off and becomes mixed with the secre¬ 
tions of the mouth. 

The color of the tongue affords an indication too slight for the 
mother to use, although in a general way, it may be said that in fevers 
the tongue is bright red and increases in redness as the fever rises. 
The degree of moisture is dependent upon the amount of saliva and 
other secretions of the mouth. In young infants, as just noted, the 
tongue is almost always coated with mucus and portions of food, 
because the saliva is practically absent till the third month, and these 
particles are not washed away mechanically as they are after the flow 
is established. The amount of saliva normally secreted each day, being 
from two to three pints, has a marked effect in this direction. It is 
easy to distinguish between milk curds and genuine coating, for the 
former can be readily removed, while the latter cannot be rubbed off. 
In a number of diseases, dryness of the tongue is a constant symptom, 
showing that the drain upon the general system has influenced the 
secretion of the salivary glands and impaired their activity. The re¬ 
turn of these fluids is usually considered a favorable sign and marks 
the decline of the disease. 

The Urine 

The quantity of urine passed is very significant, being at one time 
scanty, at another, profuse. In fever it is apt to be scanty and high- 
colored, leaving a stain upon the napkin, or a sediment after standing for 
some time in a vessel. Many diseased conditions cause a decomposition 
of the urine, which gives rise to an offensive odor that is often character¬ 
istic of a particular disease. It may, however, be due to certain foods, 
such as asparagus, lettuce, or carrots. 

The Skin 

The skin is more tender and susceptible to external influences in 
early childhood than later in life, and is, therefore, a better index at this 
time than at any subsequent period. That it is more susceptible is 


3 2 ° 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


shown by the great number of skin diseases peculiar to children, and by 
the fact that eruptive fevers are more marked in them than in older per¬ 
sons. The color of the skin, also, which depends upon the circulation, is 
more easily affected by disease at this age than later in life. Harshness, 
dryness, excessive moisture, especially in certain localities, such as the 
head, are signs of a disordered system. The skin may be pale, flabby, 
or flushed, according to the cause of the disease. In liver complaints, 
the skin is yellow; in diarrhea or kidney troubles, it is a sickly, pasty 
color; in heart or lung diseases, it is dusky or bluish. 

Dark semicircles below the eyes show a lowered vitality, and promi¬ 
nent blue veins about the forehead, instead of being characteristic of 
gentle birth or high social standing, are more often the signs of a poorly 
nourished child. 

By all these means the watchful mother can detect the onset of dis¬ 
ease and oppose it—first, by wholesome food, plenty of sleep, and good 
nursing generally, and, when these fail, to promptly restore the child to 
his normal condition, by calling in the doctor. 


HOME MANAGEMENT OF COMMON DISEASES OF 

CHILDREN 

In the following pages, some of the prominent symptoms of diseases 
and their home treatment are given, but no attempt is made to be ex¬ 
haustive. The object is simply to give to the mother a few hints that will 
enable her to judge intelligently as. to the condition of her child, to rec¬ 
ognize the approach of disease, and as far as possible to ward it off. In 
such troubles as convulsions and diphtheritic croup, where prompt and 
intelligent action is often necessary to save life, the hints here supplied, 
though simple, will, it is hoped, be found sufficient. In other cases, a 
knowledge of the self-limited character of the disorder may save unnec¬ 
essary anxiety. In all cases, helpful suggestions as to home treatment 
have been given; but in no case are such suggestions intended to do 
away with the services of a competent physican. 


RESPIRATORY DISEASES 

Nearly all of the diseases of the nose, throat, and lungs, are the re¬ 
sult of colds. An impoverished condition of the system, exhaustion, 
and sudden changes of temperature are important factors in the process 
of catching colds, but the commonest cause of all is imprudence. This 
does not apply to unnecessary exposure only, but to the lack of 
proper care of the body as to bathing and clothing, and to living in 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


32 r 


poorly ventilated rooms. When from any of these causes it happens that 
the warm body is suddenly exposed to cold air, a chilling of the surface of 
the skin takes place, causing a sudden contraction of the pores; then the 
effete material that should be eliminated with the perspiration is carried 
into the blood, and this is followed by a mild sort of systemic poisoning 
which we know as a (< cold . )y 

Catarrhal troubles, pneumonia, bronchitis, and, in short, all dis¬ 
eases of the respiratory tract, are aggravated by the modern system of 
dry heating common to city houses in winter. Steam, hot water, fur¬ 
nace heat, and even stoves and latrobes, cause the air to become too 
dry so that it readily absorbs moisture from whatever surface it touches. 
The heat from a stove will dry the air of an ordinary room to such an 
extent as to extract moisture from the furniture and woodwork and 
to cause an imperceptible but rapid evaporation of the moisture from 
the surface of the body of all persons in it. To prevent this a broad, 
shallow vessel, filled with water should be placed on the stove ; in this 
way air is moistened by the evaporation of the water. If the skin be 
healthy, such exposure may have no bad effect. The blood will still 
be driven momentarily from the surface to the interior, but the reac¬ 
tion will be instantaneous. The blood will then be returned to the 
surface, and if the air is cold, a glow of warmth will be felt. If the 
air is warm, there will be a flow of perspiration, the evaporation of 
which, since it extracts heat from the blood vessels, causes a coolness 
of the surface. On the other hand, if the skin be below the normal 
standard, the reaction will be slower, and the tissue changes less com¬ 
plete— conditions most favorable for taking cold. 

Most children, from their birth, have certain weak parts in their 
constitution which may have been handed down to them from their 
parents. In one instance it may be the lungs, in another the intesti¬ 
nal tract, while in the third, it may be the nervous system. Upon 
such parts or organs the effects of exposure will naturally first be felt. 
For example, if a child have a weak throat, he is likely to contract 
tonsillitis through getting his feet wet, sitting in a draft, or even by 
exposing himself to the cold air in cold weather; while another may 
suffer from neuralgia from the same causes. 

In the earliest stage of a cold, that is, as soon as the first symptoms 
manifest themselves, the child should have a hot mustard' footbath 
and some kind of hot drink. The temperature of the footbath should 
be about no to 115 degrees; and the proportion is a tablespoonful of 
mustard to a pail of water. To better retain the heat, a blanket or other 
covering should be wrapped about the patient in such a* manner as to 
fall to the floor and entirely envelop the pail. The duration of the bath 
should be about ten minutes, the water being kept hot by additions from 


3 22 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


time to time, as needed. The feet and legs should be dried by rub¬ 
bing briskly with a coarse towel, and the patient then be placed in 
bed with an extra blanket or two thrown over him to assist the sweat¬ 
ing process. 

Just before the patient is ready to get into bed, he should either take 
a drink of hot lemonade, or a glass of hot water with a teaspoonful of 
cream of tartar, sweetened if desired. The diet for a day or two should 
be simple; consisting mainly of toast and tea, or milk, which is gener¬ 
ally the best food, and which may be given hot if preferred.' A pinch 
of salt will add to the taste of the milk, which to some persons is 
<( flat » when taken hot. The milk is sometimes more palatable when 
well shaken and sweetened, or if cooled by crushed ice. The white of 
an egg beaten into froth, mixed with an equal part of water and sweet¬ 
ened, may be used in place of the milk. A simple cold is not always 
checked by these measures, but in whatever form it subsequently mani¬ 
fests itself, the above treatment will tend to lessen the severity of the 
attack. Some of the. commonest sequela (or results following an un¬ 
checked cold) will now be considered. 

Sore Throat 

Simple sore throat is an inflammation of the mucous membrane of the 
pharynx, usually accompanied by swelling of one or both tonsils. It is 
not always easy to distinguish between an innocent and a malignant 
sore throat, especially if some of the'symptoms of malignancy are 
present, such as patches, fetid breath, and swollen neck. In such cases 
the mother should not trust to her powers of discrimination but should 
consult a competent physician at once. 

The examination of the throat is often attended with difficulty be¬ 
cause of the inability of the patient to open the mouth wide enough or to 
depress the base of the tongue sufficiently to expose the fauces. When 
this is the case a good plan is to have someone hold the child near a win¬ 
dow, or in any strong artificial light, with his head bent back and his 
chin pulled down. His mouth now being open, the tongue may be de¬ 
pressed by the curved handle of a teaspoon and all of the parts of the 
throat thus brought into view. When the patient is old enough to under¬ 
stand what is wanted of him, the repetition of the sound <( ah-ah-ah-ah w 
will sometimes depress the base of the tongue without the aid of a spoon. 

Treatment in simple cases consists in laying upon the front of the 
throat a folded square of flannel, wrung out of cold water, and covered 
by a fold of oiled silk to retain the moisture, and the whole kept snug in 
place by a turn or two of linen or muslin. A gargle of bichromate of 
potash (one drop of the tincture to half a tumblerful of water) or dilute 
creolin (five drops to a tumblerful of water) will be found efficacious. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


323 


Coughs 

Nearly all diseases of throat and lungs are attended by a cough; 
that is one of the most prominent and characteristic symptoms. All 
coughs are not the result of cold or inflammation of the lung structure, 
for there are coughs which are due to irritation of another kind, such as 
particles of dust in the bronchial tubes; and there are also still others 
resulting from reflex action. The cough is merely a symptom and not 
a disease, although as a general rule the deeper and more prolonged 
the cough, the graver the cause. 

Snuffles 

In snuffles, the nose becomes filled with mucus, and it is impossible 
for the child to obtain through the nostrils enough air to enable him to 
breathe properly and at the same time to nurse. The child grasps the 
nipple and pulls at it violently for a moment or two and then sinks back 
wearied and unsatisfied. After a short breathing spell he goes through 
the same process repeating it until he is satisfied or until he falls asleep 
from sheer exhaustion. In some families, the nasal passages are small 
and the children in consequence are affected by croup and snuffles; these 
diseases are seldom found in families the members of which have good 
nasal organs. 

Mouth Breathing 

Mouth breathing is developed from just such troubles. The air pass¬ 
ing continually over the tongue dries up the moisture, the organ becomes 
harsh, dry, and coated, the breath bad, and sleep troubled; the habit of 
snoring soon manifests itself. 

Mouth breathing also results from the obstruction of the nasal pas¬ 
sages. The commonest cause is an abnormal growth, such as an aden¬ 
oid tumor or a nasal polypus. These technical terms mean very simple 
little swellings. An adenoid tumor is an enlargement of the third tonsil, 
a small glandular body situated behind the posterior orifice of the nose; 
and a nasal polypus is a tumerous enlargement of the mucus mem¬ 
brane lining the nose. 

Another common cause of this condition is nasal catarrh; but more 
often both the catarrh and the mouth breathing are the result of ob¬ 
struction to the nasal passage. A deflected septum—a bending of the 
cartilaginous partition separating the nostrils — may also cause obstruc¬ 
tion. If the tonsils are much enlarged, it is impossible for the child to 
free the nostrils of the collected mucus by blowing the nose, as the post¬ 
nasal obstruction prevents the entrance of a sufficient current of air to 


324 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


eject the mucus. The child who is unable for any of these reasons to 
breathe properly through the nose becomes a mouth breather, which re¬ 
sults deleteriously in several ways; first, the obstruction prevents the 
proper development of the interior of the nose, so that in adult life it is 
inadequate for the increased work demanded of it; second, this internal 
contraction of the nasal organ results in a narrow, disproportioned upper 
jaw, which causes a projection of the upper teeth; third, the child does 
not get an adequate supply of oxygen to the lungs, so he becomes pale, 
anaemic, and dull; fourth, chronic nasal catarrh may supervene. 

Chronic Catarrh 

In Chronic Catarrh the pharynx (or that portion of the back part 
of the mouth which connects the inner nostrils in the roof of the mouth 
with the throat) is filled with a glairy mucus. During sleep this mucus 
flows in such a manner that a considerable amount makes its way into 
the oesophagus and thence into the stomach, where it forms a coating 
upon the delicate mucous membrane of that organ. The nausea, so 
common to this disease, is accounted for in this way. 

This condition needs careful attention both in the matter of hygiene 
and as to local applications. The same care should be exercised in the 
matter of clothing, bathing, etc., as in preventing cold. The simple 
method of snuffing warm water and salt up the nose has a soothing and 
healing effect. Relief may also be obtained by inhaling steam, or 
through the frequent cleansing of the nose with an antiseptic solution, 
such as carbolic acid, listerine, creolin, or peroxide of hydrogen. 

Tonsillitis 

This is an acute catarrhal inflammation of the tonsils, which are vas¬ 
cular lymphatic glands located on either side of the jaw back of the soft 
palate and fauces. The glands contain numerous crypts or follicles, 
which are lined with a delicate epithelium. The follicles readily in¬ 
flame, and fill with pus, or muco-pus, which forms small, yellow, creamy- 
looking patches upon the tonsil. This form, the most frequently seen, 
is called follicular tonsillitis; it is almost always found on both tonsils, 
although one tonsil may be infected before the other. 

The general symptoms — chills, pains in the back, limbs, and head, 
with high fever, usually precede the local symptoms. The fever may 
run up as high as 104 or 105 degrees. The local symptoms begin with 
a tickling or dryness of the throat or pharynx, followed by swelling of 
the tonsils, pain, and the formation of the follicular patches or pus. 
The general symptoms are most severe the first day, gradually subsiding 
and disappearing after the third day, but the local symptoms persist 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 325 

a day or two longer. This form of tonsillitis is comparatively mild in 
character, and is self-limited in duration. An antiseptic gargle, or one 
of hot water and salt, every half hour, is all that is needed in the way of 
local treatment. Attention must be paid to the general health and 
hygiene in order to prevent recurring attacks. The chief danger in 
tonsillitis is its tendency to terminate in quinsy, or phlegmonous tonsilli¬ 
tis. This form of the disease is not so common, particularly in younger 
children, and unlike the preceding variety, is nearly always confined to 
one side of the throat. 


Quinsy 

Quinsy, or phlegmonous tonsillitis, is in reality an inflammation of the 
cellular tissue surrounding the tonsil, but in severe cases it always in¬ 
vades the gland itself. This form of the disease is produced by the 
same causes as the follicular variety, but in tho.se suffering from post¬ 
nasal catarrh the tendency is greater. The symptoms in the beginning 
of the attack are about the same as in the former, the difference be¬ 
ing that the general symptoms are not so severe in this while the local 
ones are more pronounced. The pain in the throat is very severe, 
especially when an attempt is made to open the mouth or to swallow 
food. At first the inflammation of the tonsil is not noticed, except 
perhaps a slight redness, notwithstanding that the patient complains of 
severe pain. The reason for this curious condition lies in the fact that 
the inflammation begins in the peri-tonsillar tissue, that is, the tissue sur¬ 
rounding the gland itself, and it is only after the abscess forms that it 
involves the tonsil. When there is severe sore throat, with pains extend¬ 
ing down the muscles of the neck, and no apparent signs of inflamma¬ 
tion in the tonsils, quinsy should be suspected. 

Hot applications in the form of poultices or cloths wrung out of 
hot water, the hot-water bag, or cold applied in the form of ice poul¬ 
tices or cold cloths, relieve the pain and fever, and hasten the forma¬ 
tion of the abscess. As soon as the abscess points, it should be 
opened by a physician. Gargles, sucking of ice, or the drinking of 
flaxseed tea sometimes prove grateful to the patient. As tonsillitis in 
this form is very contagious the patient should be at once isolated to 
prevent further infection. 

Croup 

There are two kinds of croup, true and false. The alarming symp¬ 
toms of croup sometimes cause it to be confounded with diphtheria and 
many times it is difficult to distinguish between them. In false croup 
the cough and other symptoms are chiefly the result of spasms of the 
muscles of the larynx, which shut off the entrance of air to the throat 


326 . ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

and lungs. The effort to overcome this momentary suffocation and 
the subsequent explosive entrance of air, causes the characteristic 
barking cough; hence the name spasmodic croup. While this disease 
is quite alarming in its symptoms, it is seldom dangerous. Although 
frequently it is the result of exposure to cold or dampness, there is no 
accompanying inflammation of the mucous membrane. 

These attacks rarely occur after the sixth year. An attack usually 
lasts from two to three nights, the second being perhaps as severe as 
the first, with an interval during the day in which no cough, or at least, 
only a slight one, manifests itself. As these symptoms rapidly abate, 
and are never succeeded by serious symptoms, there is little occasion 
for alarm, as the ordinary treatment effects a cure. 

Hot fomentations and hot foot baths may be given to advantage, 
as described under treatment of sore throat. Internally, a teaspoonful 
of melted lard and New Orleans molasses, mixed in equal proportions, 
may serve to lubricate and clear the throat. Relief can also be ob¬ 
tained by provoking vomiting. The mere effort to vomit, whether 
anything comes up or not, will soon be followed by relaxation of the 
tense muscular .fibers of the larynx, and the breathing, consequently, 
will become less labored and more natural. 

True Croup 

True croup, otherwise known as membranous croup, is compara¬ 
tively rare. Clinically, it is scarce^ distinguishable from diphtheria, 
and by many it is considered a form of diphtheria, and as such is 
termed laryngeal diphtheria. Its onset is gradual, the cough being pre¬ 
ceded by languor, fever and loss of appetite for a day or two before the 
paroxysm. Instead of occurring in the middle of the night, as in the 
case of false croup, the symptoms of barking cough usually make their 
first appearance early in the day, increasing in intensity as night ap¬ 
proaches till they are in full force. The false membrane rapidly forms 
in the larynx, shutting off the ingress of air. The child struggles and 
makes vigorous efforts to catch his breath. In infancy the case usually 
reaches a fatal termination in from twenty-four to thirty-six hours, while 
in older children it may be from two to four days. In most cases, death 
results from the failure to provide prompt treatment, the disease being 
allowed to develop because of the slight importance attached to the initial 
symptoms. The death rate is between ninety and ninety-five per cent 
in untreated cases. As this trouble for all practical purposes may be 
considered as a virulent form of diphtheria, its treatment is practically 
the same. Mechanical help, in the way of a tube, to prevent suffoca¬ 
tion, may be imperative. This, however, can be inserted only by one 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


3 2 7 


skilled and practised in the operation. In fact, medical treatment 
throughout the whole course of the disease is imperatively demanded. 

Bronchitis 

This is one of the most frequent diseases of childhood, and is usually 
the result of a neglected cold, or at least one that is of such severity that 
its sudden onset has not been preceded by any marked symptoms. 
The cough — at first dry — is due to an irritation or congestion of the 
bronchial tubes. When the collection of mucus is sufficient to cause 
irritation the cough becomes loose and is usually increased in force and 
frequency. In infants and small children but little mucus is coughed 
up, most of it being simply swallowed and discharged through the 
bowels. Unless the cough be very severe there are few attendant symp¬ 
toms, but there may be slight fever, wheezing, and pain in the chest. 
The danger of neglecting an acute attack of bronchitis is that it may 
easily run into a chronic form, or terminate in pneumonia. 

The local treatment consists in rubbing the chest with camphorated 

i 

oil, to a tablespoonful of which may be added ten drops of turpentine. 
A hot flaxseed poultice placed on the chest will increase the flow of mu¬ 
cus and relieve the pain. To make the poultice, mix a sufficient quantity 
of flaxseed meal with boiling water to make a soft mush, to which two 
tablespoonfuls of melted lard is added; this must be spread about one- 
half of an inch thick on cheese cloth, the loose ends of which are then 
folded over so as to completely inclose the flaxseed. The poultice should 
cover the chest and come well up around the neck. To do this easily and 
neatly cut the cheese cloth as follows: Take a piece of cloth of sufficient 
size when doubled on itself to cover the chest and cut it with a- space in 
either end to allow for the neck. A piece of tape sewed to the end will 
allow the poultice to be tied or pinned around the neck so as to keep it 
in place and prevent slipping; and another piece sewed to the center of 
either side will allow the poultice to be fastened around the chest or ab¬ 
domen. 

Pneumonia 

There are several varieties of this disease recognized by the physi¬ 
cians, but for all practical purposes they may be considered as identical. 
Croupous or lobar pneumonia and catarrhal or lobular pneumonia are the 
principal varieties and are indifferently called congestion of the lungs, 
capillary bronchitis, pneumonia, and inflammation of the lungs. It is an 
acute infectious disease, due to a specific organism. At least the organ¬ 
ism is present and seems to thrive on the medium furnished; whereas, if 
the lung were normal no harm would result from its presence. The 
usual course of the disease is an extension of rhinitis or laryngitis, or a 


328 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

bronchitis, downward, into, and involving - , the small bronchial tubes and 
air cells. There is high fever, rapid pulse, weakened heart, loss of ap¬ 
petite, pain, restlessness and loss of sleep. The secretion of mucus rap¬ 
idly takes place at or near the onset of the disease, the whole forming* a 
clinical picture not unlike bronchitis as above described, with the excep¬ 
tion that the symptoms are exaggerated and of greater importance. 

The shallow, labored breathing indicates an insufficient amount of air 
in the lungs. The air cells and bronchial tubes being more or less filled 
with mucus and cast-off epithelial cells, the capacity of the lungs is that 
much lessened. More oxygen or a better quantity of air is required to 
compensate for the loss of lung area. It is, therefore, of the first neces¬ 
sity that the room contain fresh air in abundance, but of course without 
drafts. 

As the heart’s action is increased by an extra effort to force more 
blood into the lungs to supply sustenance to the inflamed structure, which 
is undergoing rapid change, it is obvious that if this exertion is long 
continued, the muscles of the heart will be impaired. This is the case 
where there is pallor succeeding a flushed face, blue lips and finger-tips. 
To overcome this speedily is an imperative necessity in order to prevent 
death. This can best be accomplished by plunging the baby into a hot bath. 

The disease is of such gravity as to require medical skill at once, and 
no one should think of attempting domestic treatment. In but few cases 
can the results of good nursing be more appreciated and be of more serv¬ 
ice than in pneumonia. Likewise poor nursing or painful blunders no¬ 
where prove more directly fatal. 

Diseases of the Digestive System 
Indigestion 

There are two varieties of this disorder, the acute and chronic. The 
acute variety may be termed colic. The chronic variety occurs more 
frequently in later life, and, like the former, is mainly dependent upon in¬ 
judicious diet. Certain forms of food, as we have seen, are digested in 
the stomach only, while others are digested in the intestines alone. Al¬ 
buminous materials are converted in the stomach into substances ready 
to be absorbed. Fats and starches are digested in the intestines. Since 
the intestinal function is not fully developed until late in infancy, it fol¬ 
lows that materials containing much starch or sugar should be withheld 
until after the nursing period. 

Colic is due, usually, to a collection of gas in the abdomen, the dis¬ 
tention causing severe pain. This may occur in infants who are in other 
respects practically well. In many cases there is high temperature, in¬ 
tense thirst and vomiting. The food, solid or liquid, is rejected imme- 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


329 

diately after being swallowed, and the nausea and vomiting often persist 
long after all the food has left the stomach. The extremities are cold, 
more or less bluish, the abdomen tense and swollen, and there is more or 
less continual drawing up and straightening out of the arms and legs. 
The attack often subsides when the gas is expelled either through the 
mouth or the bowels! These attacks vary as to number, period of dura¬ 
tion, and time of onset. They are more frequent at night, especially 
after feeding. 

The ordinary wind colic of infants, though distressing, seldom re¬ 
quires medical treatment. There is practically no reason for the exist- 

/ 

ence of the so-called three months’ colic, as it is usually due to improper 
food or lack of proper care of the breast or bottle. In cases where the 
cause is due to the character of the food in artificially fed babies, the 
nourishment may perhaps be-required to be changed, but this should 
never be done except upon the advice of the physician. 

During an attack, place the feet in hot water or against a hot-water 
bag, and apply heat to the abdomen and well up over the stomach. A 
good plan is to wring cloths out of hot water and apply one after another 
without exposing the skin between applications. Have a fresh cloth 
ready and close to the body before removing the old one. Relief can 
also be obtained by laying the child upon his abdomen over a hot-water 
bag. Many times an injection of a gill of warm water, to which ten 
drops of turpentine have been added, will relieve the attack by assisting 
in the expulsion of gas. Peppermint water (five drops of essence of 
peppermint in two teaspoonfuls of warm water, sweetened with a quarter 
of a teaspoonful of sugar), or milk of asafetida (sold in all drug stores) 
given immediately after nursing, in three-drop doses, diluted, will fre¬ 
quently prevent an attack. Many of the herb teas, the sovereign reme¬ 
dies of our childhood days, should not be employed. The use of brandy 
or whiskey as a remedy is to be avoided, and under no circumstances 
should soothing syrup be given. One of the greatest and commonest 
errors is the feeding of the child at such times in the hope or belief 
that it will cure, or at least assist the trouble. This is but adding insult 
to injury, as either too much or improper food is at the bottom of the 
whole trouble. Therefore the child must not be fed. He should be 
warmly dressed, especially the feet and legs, the covering extending 
above the knees, and the abdomen wrapped in flannel. 

A good protector, and one furnishing heat, is an abdominal pad made 
of the following ingredients: — 

Powdered ginger, 

Powdered cinnamon, equal parts, 

Powdered allspice, 

Powdered cloves, one-fourth part. 


330 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


The powder should be thoroughly mixed and placed in a bag of 
cheese cloth, then spread out flat and the whole quilted. A pad made in 
this way can be worn night and day if necessary. 

Improper food, disregard of hygienic principles and improper habits 
of eating will soon convert acute attacks into chronic forms of indiges¬ 
tion. In these latter the intestines become involved; in fact, gastric is 
often associated with intestinal indigestion. In such cases the gastric 
juice fails to prepare or elaborate the contents of the stomach for sub¬ 
sequent digestion in the lower alimentary canal; the stomach acids be- 

* 

come so thoroughly mixed with the food that when it passes into the 
intestines it cannot be neutralized by the bile and pancreatic juice, and 
the further process of digestion is arrested. More gas then forms and 
a peculiar noise, due to the passage of gas from one (< knuckle ® or 
portion of the intestine to another, is produced. 

In nearly every case the giving of potatoes and other starchy foods 
to children before intestinal digestion is well established, is responsible 
for the trouble. Those suffering from rickets and other forms of mal¬ 
nutrition are the most frequent sufferers from it. The same general 
rule holds in this class of cases as in gastric indigestion, namely, the 
causes are either improper food or too much food. 

Besides flatulency, there will be pain, diarrhea, or constipation, loss 
of flesh and general signs of imperfect nourishment. Constipation, 
when it occurs, is usually accompanied with considerable flatulency, the 
stools, are hard, white or grayish balls, passed with great effort, and 
the hardened masses are streaked with mucus and blood. In diarrhea 
the stools are greenish, excoriating and foul-smelling, showing that fer¬ 
mentation has taken place. 

The first step in the treatment of all forms of indigestion is to pre¬ 
pare a food adaptable to the digestive powers of the child. The starches 
and sugars must be reduced or withdrawn altogether. In those who are 
eating much solid food, the 'vegetables, particularly potatoes, must not 
be allowed. Minced beef, mutton broth and peptonized milk, well di¬ 
luted, form the chief articles of diet. The amount of food at a meal 
should be considerably less than usual, but the number of meals may be 
increased to five or six per day. 


Biliousness 

Contrary to the generally accepted opinion, biliousness is not due 
to a superabundance of bile, nor, as it is more commonly expressed, 
to a sluggish liver, but is invariably due to indigestion. Those who 
are said to be of a bilious temperament are in reality of an inherited 
or acquired dyspeptic tendency. In this condition, an excessive quan¬ 
tity of food or an improper diet causes the food to be insufficiently 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 331 

digested, or constipation causes the absorption of (< ptomaines,or an 
excess of urates. Ptomaines and urates are products of tissue waste, 
that diminish the vitality of the blood, thus causing the functions of 
the various organs to become less vigorous. Certain forms of gross 
food, the continued indulgence in one kind of diet, lack of exercise, 
close confinement in overheated houses, or any drain on the physi¬ 
cal strength that will affect the digestive functions, may cause the at¬ 
tacks. 

Loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, and a coated tongue, are the 
prominent symptoms. Rest in bed, light diet, and quiet will accom¬ 
plish a cure in a few days. When fever develops, the case should be 
brought without delay to the attention of a physician. 


Thrush 

Thrush, or stomatitis, is a very common disease during the early 
weeks of life. It is characterized by small white patches formed on 
the mucous membrane of the mouth and tongue. In severe cases, 
they may be numerous, some of them coalescing and forming large 
patches. They are similar in appearance to curdled milk, but they 
can be removed only with difficulty, whereas the milk patches are 
easily brushed off, leaving no trace behind. The thrush patch, on the 
contrary, when removed, leaves a raw, bleeding surface. This disease 
is usually associated with some derangement of digestion, but it is a 
germ disease, and is contagious. The immediate cause is usually a lack 
of cleanliness about the mouth itself, or the use of nursing bottles 
provided with tubes which allow the accumulation of sour or decom¬ 
posing milk — a good medium for the rapid development of germs. 

Treatment, both preventive and curative, consists in cleanliness. 
Just before and immediately after nursing, a small mass of cotton 
saturated in a solution consisting of a pint of hot water in which is 
dissolved a teaspoonful of borax, should be used to thoroughly cleanse 
the nipple and the skin immediately surrounding it. If the rubber 
nipple is used, it should be washed in the same solution, both within 
and without, and placed in a solution of soda water until again desired 
for use. Both before and after nursing, the mouth of the infant should 
be thoroughly cleansed with the borated water. 


Hiccough 

Another of the disorders symptomatic of digestion, closely associated 
with the foregoing, is hiccough. It is due to spasmodic contraction 
of the diaphragm,— the partition wall between the cavities of the chest 


332 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


and abdomen. While this may result from other causes, especially ner¬ 
vous causes, it is usually dependent upon some digestive disturbance. 
Although annoying, it is of little real significance except in those cases 
where persistent hiccough is the symptom of some grave disease. In 
infants it can usually be relieved by giving hot water and soda-mint, or 
by patting on the back. Every one is familiar with the old domestic 
cures applied to older children, such as holding the breath while a certain 
number is being counted; or drinking a glass of water when the arms are 
stretched high over the head. Any of these methods will be found of 
service, especially the latter. 

Vomiting 

It is no uncommon sight to see a child a month or two old taking 
from four to six ounces of milk when the stomach will hold conveniently 
only half that quantity. One of two things must then take place — 
cither the child will vomit a portion of the milk or the stomach will be¬ 
come abnormally distended. Such habitual stretching of the muscle 
fibres will soon cause them to lose their power of contraction. After a 
time the organ remains large, requiring an excessive amount of food to 
fill it, otherwise the sense of something lacking is very speedily noted by 
the child. Under such circumstances, he cries from a feeling of hunger, 
or rather a feeling of emptiness, even when the stomach has already re¬ 
ceived what would be a sufficient amount of food for a normal stomach. 
If he then receives the extra food he craves, it remains for a long time in 
the stomach, because that organ cannot digest it or pass it into the small 
intestines in the time usually required for normal digestion. The acid 
gastric juice coagulates the casein into hard curds, which pass into the 
bowels almost unchanged, causing constipation. For this reason many 
children do not thrive on artificial food; they are literally starving in the 
midst of plenty. 

Vomiting is not a disease but a symptom. In true vomiting there are 
nausea, coldness of the skin, and clammy sweat, usually more pronounced 
about the head. This may be due to an effort to expel the undigested 
food from the stomach, or it may be an indication of the onset of some 
acute disease. Vomiting, further, may indicate acute intestinal obstruc¬ 
tion, or the presence of certain affections of the brain or nervous system. 
It may be simply reflex, or the result of habit. If from nausea, the act 
of vomiting is followed by relief; if persistent, it may be the result of 
some grave lesion. 

Special attention should be paid to the character of the material 
vomited, as it is of great diagnostic value. In ordinary cases nothing 
but the contents of the stomach, consisting principally of undigested 
food, will be thrown up. If the trouble be deeper seated, the ejection 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 333 

may contain blood, bile, or fecal matter; the latter is an indication of 
serious intestinal obstruction. When the ejected material has the 
appearance of coffee grounds, it is an evidence of blood in the stomach. 

No food should be given for about six hours. Complete rest of the 
stomach is necessary in every case. Ice water may be sipped, or small 
pieces of ice may be sucked to allay thirst. 


Constipation and Diarrhea 

During the first week, an infant’s bowels should move three or four 
times daily, gradually diminishing to once or twice a day by the time the 
child is a month old. The bowels at birth are loaded with meconium, 
which is thick and black. The laxative properties of the colostrom (the 
first secretion of the mother’s breasts) speedily relieves the bowels of 
this mass, as shown by the gradual change to the normal, healthy stool, 
which is soft, yellow, and without lumps. The normal stool of the infant 
under six months of age is about the consistency of thick molasses, of a 
golden yellow color, and has a sour odor. After that age and until the 
end of the second year, the color gradually changes to a yellowish 
brown; with a slightly fecal odor and a change to a mush-like consis¬ 
tency. As more solid food is fed to the child, the stools approach the 
color and character of adult feces. 

In infants, the character of the stool forms a better index of intestinal 
disturbance than in adults. The diet being milk only, the stool is not 
discolored by a variety of foods, as in the case of an adult. If, therefore, 
discoloration take place, the cause must be looked for outside the diet. 
Medicines such as iron or bismuth will turn the stool dark, or the dark 
color may be due to blood. If the stools are white, liquid, chalky, and 
lumpy, it is an indication that the food is improperly digested. If they 
are green in color or frothy, it denotes fermentation; if very yellow or 
brown and foul-smelling, putrefaction has taken place. When the feces 
are streaked with blood, it is usually indicative of internal hemorrhoids, 
or dysentery. 

The chief symptoms which indicate intestinal disturbance, are consti¬ 
pation and diarrhea. 

Constipation may be said to be present when the fecal mass is hard, 
dry, and difficult to pass. Diminished secretion of bile is productive of 
constipation, the stools being hard, dry and chalky. Gastric indigestion 
also produces a similar result. Another cause is irregularity of habit. 
Unless a regular time for going to stool is established very early in child¬ 
hood, the habit of neglecting this very important duty will increase as the 
child grows older, until it has become so firmly fixed that it will be diffi¬ 
cult to educate the bowel to regularity. By forming a piopei habit in 


334 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


infancy, this evil may be almost entirely avoided. It may be formed by 
regular hours of feeding, in the first instance, and by placing the child 
upon a small vessel held between the knees of the nurse, in the second 
instance. This latter procedure, however, has little effect before the 
child is six months old. 

Relief of the impacted bowel by means other than diet and hygiene is 
only temporary at best. Suppositories and enemata are often of practical 
value and many times superior to laxatives or purgatives. The great 
advantage of these local measures is the immediate result obtained, and 
the rest given to the stomach and the intestines by the withholding of 
drugs which always derange the secretions of these organs. The action 
of these remedies is due to the stimulating effect they exercise on the 
bowel, inducing peristaltic movement which expels : ’the contents. As they 
are palliative only, having no tendency to promote regular action, they 
should only be used as temporary measures. 

Suppositories made of tallow or Castile soap should be about one and 
a half to two inches long, with a short point and of sufficient size to en¬ 
able their insertion without injury. In some cases the blandness of the 
Castile soap is not sufficient in its stimulating power to accomplish the 
desired results. Ordinary bar or laundry soap may be used in such 
cases, the excessive amount of caustic having a good stimulating effect, 
but for most babies it is too strong and should not be used frequently. 
Cocoa butter suppositories, or soap shavings pressed into a conical shape, 
will act well in some cases, especially in older children. Glycerine sup¬ 
positories are now much used for this purpose and are the best yet de¬ 
vised, but should not be used too often on account of their activity. 

An enema acts mechanically by distending the bowel with fluid which 
stimulates the peristaltic action. By dissolving or softening the impacted 
feces it allows the expulsion of the mass to take place with greater ease. 
When the mass is very hard or the bowel unusually sluggish, some stim¬ 
ulating substance must be added. Glycerine, in the proportion of a tea¬ 
spoonful to the pint of fluid, has a very beneficial effect. The habitual 
use of injections, however, will have the same effect as continued dosing, 
the bowels refusing to move unless one or the other is given. 

As constipation is a disease of digestion due chiefly to errors in diet, 
it naturally follows that the final cure lies not in medicine but in the cor¬ 
rection of the diet. The dietetic treatment resolves itself into two nat¬ 
ural subdivisions, namely, that for infancy, and that for childhood. As 
milk is the only food for the infant, the question of a change in diet is 
simply one of modification of the constituents. Infants nursing at the 
breast are rarely constipated if the mother’s milk is of a good quality. 
When constipation does exist, it is a fair assumption that the milk of the 
mother does not contain the food elements either in the proper propor- 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


335 


tions or in sufficient amount. When the dietetic and tonic treatment of 
the mother fails to produce a richer milk, and the constipation still con¬ 
tinues to exist, a small amount of cream may be given to the infant after 
nursing. The amount of cream will depend upon the degree of the con¬ 
stipation; in mild cases half a teaspoonful will prove adequate, but in 
obstinate cases at least two teaspoonfuls will be necessary. 

In bottle-fed babies, constipation is an evidence, as a rule, that the 
milk is too rich in proteids or casein and too poor in fats. Therefore 
the aim should be to secure a larger percentage of fats than casein, it 
being an error to feed milk in which these constituents are too nearly 
equal, and the milk too concentrated. 

In those children where the constipation is somewhat obstinate, the 
milk may be diluted with oatmeal water instead of plain water. Never 
give raw oatmeal water, as it seems to aggravate the trouble instead of 
aiding it. Barley water, arrow root, corn-starch, or infant food contain¬ 
ing starch should be prohibited. Some persons prefer the action of 
Graham flour, and make a water of this preparation as a diluent. 

After the twelfth month, a little fruit may be added to the diet to in¬ 
crease the bulk of the residue and to obtain in a slight degree the laxa¬ 
tive fruit acids. Orange juice, baked apple, ripe peach pulp and 
prune juice are excellent for this purpose. Porridges of oatmeal or 
Graham meal, thoroughly cooked and served with cream, will be of great 
service, both for their laxative effect and their nutritive value. Stale 
bread with butter is also useful in the same manner. Molasses and 
bread, or the old-fashioned ginger bread, in small quantities, may be given 
toward the close of the second year. Stewed fruits, such as prunes, or 
figs deprived of their seeds, are laxative. As the diet increases in 
variety, a better opportunity for adding laxative and correcting foods 
presents itself. Poorly nourished children should be given cod-liver oil. 
Beginning with half a teaspoonful, or even less when the stomach will 
not tolerate a larger dose, the quantity may be gradually increased till 
the amount reaches a teaspoonful. Spinach well cooked and mashed 
may be served with olive oil for those who like it, or with butter. Water 
should be drunk every morning before breakfast, especially in those 
cases where the stools are hard and dry. Mush and milk, or mush with 
a little molasses, is also very well borne and is usually relished by the 
child. 

Massage is often of great value. The abdomen should be manipu¬ 
lated in the evening just before bedtime and in the morning upon 
awakening. Knead the abdomen as in making bread, but gently, and 
then rub with the finger-tips in a circular motion going from point to 
point till the entire walls have been treated. About five minutes should 
be expended in these manipulations. 


336 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

% 

Open air exercise is essential to a successful cure, and if the child is 
too small to take active exercise, he should at least be kept out of doors 
as much as possible. 

Diarrhea is the opposite of constipation, and while it is sometimes 
the result of the latter, it is more often the effect of the irritation pro¬ 
duced by improper food. Bottle-fed babies are the greatest sufferers. 

In this condition the kidneys and liver are required to do an extra 
amount of work in throwing off the poisonous products absorbed from the 
bowels by the blood, which renders them liable to permanent damage, 
particularly where there is inherited predisposition to disease of either of 
these organs. Frequently occurring green stools, especially very thin 
and foul smelling ones, demand prompt and intelligent treatment, as 
they are an indication of imperfect digestion. Children suffering with 
stools of this character are an easy prey to gastro-intestinal inflamma¬ 
tions, and the death rate from these causes is very high. 

In all cases of diarrhea where the attacks come on suddenly with a 
rise of temperature, a physician should be summoned at once, as grave 
results sometimes follow delay. In the meantime place the child in bed, 
rather than in the lap or in the arms, and keep him as quiet as possible. 
Do not give paregoric, diarrhea mixtures, cordials, soothing syrups, or 
similar preparations containing opium. The diet should be light and 
simple and given every two hours, with water in small quantities be¬ 
tween times to quench the thirst. Too much water must not be allowed 
at a time or too often, as it may provoke vomiting. Albumen, pep- 
tonoids, barley and rice water, whey, and, if the child be old enough, a 
little wine gelatine, may be given. Koumiss and matzoon are usually 
more easily digested at this time than is plain milk. 

Skin Diseases 
Prickly Heat 

This is an inflammation of the sweat glands occurring commonly in 
the summer months, although not infrequently in the winter as the re¬ 
sult of injudicious methods of clothing. When the child perspires freely 
and there is no opportunity for evaporation, the impurities, deposited in 
the form of salts, bring about a redness, and congestion which finally 
develops into actual inflammation. The skin is covered with fine, red, 
slightly elevated spots or pimples, something like the eruption of 
measles, or they contain a little clear watery matter, or both may be 
present. This eruption is found more frequently in those regions where 
the skin lies in folds and where the perspiration does not become so 
readily absorbed by the clothing. They may gradually fade away, or 
break and form fine, brownish, bran-like scabs. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


337 


In treating - a case of prickly heat the first thing is to reduce the 
temperature. If the clothing is excessive (and it usually is) some of 
it should be laid aside. It is safe to conclude whenever a child per¬ 
spires freely that it is due to some constitutional trouble and should 
be investigated. 

The itching in this disease is intense and the child is sure to be 
restless and irritable. To give relief, the parts should be sponged every 
two or three hours, with equal parts of vinegar and water, or a ten per 
cent solution of menthol. 

When the folds of the skin are involved, such as exist in the arm- 
pits, neck, or groin, a dusting powder will afford considerable relief. 
A favorite powder is composed of: — 

Oxide of Zinc, 

Powdered Camphor, 

Rice Starch. Each one-half ounce. 

, Another powder in common use is: — 

Boric acid, 

Starch. Equal parts. 

Tooth Rash 

This is an eruption occurring any time before the first teeth make 
their appearance; hence the name. It has no connection with teething, 
for it occurs during the first two or three weeks of life, when it is known 
as (< red gum.Digestive disturbance is the cause of the rash, and as 
such disturbance is frequent in teething children, the teeth have errone¬ 
ously been assigned as the cause. 

Small red papules, few in number, make their appearance on the 
face, neck, and shoulders. An itching and burning sensation is the 
only discomfort they produce. It sometimes causes anxiety on the part 
of the parent, who supposes it to be some form of infectious disease. 
This is all the more liable to be the case if any form of epidemic, 
such as measles, scarlet fever, or chicken pox is known to be in the 
vicinity. 

A correction of the digestion and a soothing ointment, such as 
lanoline or cold cream, will suffice to give relief. 

Hives 

Hives, or urticaria, is a common disorder of childhood, found less 
frequently in adult life. It is characterized by intense itching, and the 
presence of large flat elevations called wheals, which appear with start¬ 
ling suddenness and disappear with a like rapidity. The wheals are 
generally pale white, forming a marked contrast to the red ring, or 


33^ 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


aureola, about them. These eruptions change to pink or red and then 
disappear in a few minutes, leaving no trace of their existence. 

In some cases the eruption is composed of a large number of small 
red elevations from one-sixteenth to one-eighth of an inch in diameter, 
on a patch of red skin. Again, the white wheals sometimes appear so 
close together that they run one into another, forming a large, elevated, 
fantastic figure. 

As a rule, the disease is of short duration, coming on at night when 
the child is undressed, and warm in bed; the first symptom is the itching, 
and an examination then discloses the eruption which was unnoticed be¬ 
fore. The wheals appear and disappear quite rapidly, and the disorder 
may last only a few hours, or a day or two, or it may become chronic, 
when there will be a succession of crops of wheals, the cause not having 
been removed. 

Other symptoms may accompany the outbreak, giving evidence of 
some disorder of the general health, but the most usual cause is a dis¬ 
turbance of digestion. Sea food, crabs, fresh fish, oysters and clams, 
perhaps, most frequently bring on the disorder; so do some kinds of 
meat, as lamb, pork, and sausage; also certain fruits and vegetables, as 
strawberries, tomatoes, nuts and mushrooms, and many other articles 

of diet. But there can be no set rule as to diet, for what can be eaten 

% 

with impunity by one person will cause an immediate attack in another. 
Moreover, food otherwise unobjectionable may be either too great in 
quantity or unsuitable to the age of the child. 

To relieve the itching and burning, either bathing in cold water, to 
which salt has been added, or in equal parts of water and vinegar, or 
sponging the surface with a ten per cent solution of menthol, will be 
found of value. 

Ringworm 

Ringworm is a contagious parasitic disease of the body or scalp, due 
to the growth of a vegetable fungus on the skin. It begins at a point 
and radiates in every direction, forming a complete circular patch, quite 
regular in outline, something like the circle produced when a stone is 
thrown into the water. The circle gradually widens and the center be¬ 
comes clear, while the eruption dries and undergoes a scaling process, 
which proceeds concentrically from center to circumference. 

Children are the most frequent victims of ringworm because of their 
personal contact in play — in the wearing of one another’s garments, the 
use of the same towel and comb, and through other means whereby the 
parasite is transferred from one to another. 

When a child suffers from ringworm, the disease is likely to recur and 
to run a more or less chain-like course. In ordinary or circular ring- 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


339 


worm, as generally known, the treatment by a fungicide is not only sim¬ 
ple but satisfactory. After cleansing the parts with soap and water the 
following ointments may be rubbed in: — 

Ammoniated mercury, 20 grains, 

Lard or lanolin, 1 ounce; 

or 

Sulphite of sodium, 1 dram, 

Cologne water, 1 ounce. 

Directions — To be applied night and morning. 

Ringworm of the scalp differs in no essential from the above, except 
that the parasite invades the hair follicle and causes the hair shaft to 
become dry and brittle and to break off just outside of the skin. This 
causes round patches to form as the disease spreads. 

The persistence of this form of ringworm is greater than that on the 
body, for the reason that the fungi are so deeply imbedded in the roots 
of the hair that it is difficult to reach them by treatment. The only sure 
way is to pull out the hair affected. This can be accomplished by the 
use of tweezers; the operation is tedious and troublesome, but many 
cases will not respond to other treatment. 

Many fungicides are valuable if they could only reach the roots, but 
sometimes this is impossible. The following well-known formula will 
be found useful: — 

Acid, carbolic, 1 dram, 

Citrine ointment, %. ounce, 

Sulphur ointment, 1 ounce. 

To be rubbed over the patches twice a day. 

In all cases the physician should be consulted, as, otherwise, permanent 
baldness may result. 

Stings 

Stings of small insects are caused by the insertion into the skin of a 
small quantity of a poisonous substance called formic acid. If this acid 
is applied to the skin in an undiluted state, it will produce redness and 
a prickling sensation, followed by pain and blistering. The sting is a 
little barbed tube containing the poison, and acts something like the 
barb of a fishhook. When plunged into the flesh it is difficult to with¬ 
draw ; for, in addition to the spreading out of the barbs as the attempt 
at removal is made, the act of pulling out compresses the tube and in¬ 
jects the poison into the flesh. Instead, the sting should be scraped 
off with a knife blade; the parts can then be treated with an alkaline 
bath or covered with wet clay or mud. All acids are neutralized by 


340 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


alkaline substances; if the parts are bathed in a solution of bicarbonate 
of soda or ammonia water the irritating - acid is thereby changed into a 
harmless product. 


Eczema 

Eczema is the most common of all skin diseases, as it is also the most 
varied. Aside from the disfigurement produced, it is perhaps the most 
irritating, painful, and troublesome of all skin diseases. No attempt will 
be made to describe its many forms, as even physicians are at times 
puzzled to classify a given case. In children a vesicular form is the 
most frequent under a multitude of common names, such as moist tetter, 
milk crust and scald head. 

There area few characteristic features common to all cases of eczema; 
the itching and burning, and in the vesicular variety, an exudation of 
sticky serous secretion which leaves a yellow stain upon the clothing. 
Another form found in children, although by no means confined to this 
period of life, is the fissured eczema, or chap. When the disease affects 
that part of the skin which is flexed or bent upon itself, it causes a 
Assuring or cracking, as shown in the lips, fingers, and hands. In this 
form the disease is more prevalent in winter than in summer, and it is 
never contagious. 

One of the frequent causes of eczema is the improper and too frequent 
washing of the skin, insufficient drying, and the use of soaps strong in 
alkalis, or of powders or lotions which contain irritating substances. It 
is never due to a humor in the blood, although at times impoverished and 
impure blood may be coincident with the disease. If the health is poor, 
the constitution debilitated from any cause whatever, the trouble is always 
increased. 

Regulation of diet is of the first importance; all articles difficult of 
digestion must be avoided, especially salt meats, pastry, beer, and liquors. 
Water should be used sparingly, and then only for cleansing purposes. 
Soap, except pure Castile, does much harm, and if used at all should be 
completely rinsed from the skin. 

When the eruption is clearly due to local causes, no form of internal 
treatment is necessary, but when the disease is diffuse and the cause not 
clear, constitutional treatment under the supervision of a physician is 
indicated. 


Harts 

♦ 

Warts are generally nothing more than exaggerated growths of the 
papillae of the skin. It is not easy to assign an exciting cause in any given 
case, unless there be a history of some continuous irritation at the site of 
the growth. An example is the development of warts from the use of 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


341 


the thimble, although in older people a callous or corn is more likely to 
develop. Probably the reason why more warts are found among children 
is because all the developmental phenomena are more active at this 
period. Warts, like mushrooms, seem often to be the growth of a night, 
appearing suddenly, remaining for a time, and then disappearing. This 
sudden disappearance of the warts is attributed to the virtue of the vari¬ 
ous charms used as cures. The rubbing of a piece of meat over the 
growth and then burying it, in the belief that when the meat rots the 
wart will drop off, is one of the most familiar and widespread of the 
magic cures. 

If let alone, most warts will in time disappear. If it is desired to re¬ 
move them, scraping out with a thin, sharp knife is the surest method. 
This leaves a little depression in the skin \frhich will heal rapidly if no 
dirt is allowed to accumulate in it. Plot water will stop the bleeding. 
Ordinary lunar caustic (nitrate of silver) will prove efficacious in most 
cases of warts. The following preparation of salicylic acid is almost 
always a sure cure: — 

Acid, salicylic (gr. X.), 1 dram, 

Tincture of Indian hemp, 1 dram, 

Collodion, 1 dram. 

Apply to the wart every night and morning. 

The liquid should be applied with a toothpick or match stem, but 
care should be taken that the fluid does not touch the surrounding skin, 
as it will form a painful blister. To prevent this, the surrounding area 
may be covered with vaseline. A word of caution must be given as to 
the above solution. Unless the bottle is quickly and securely corked 
each time after using, the ether in the collodion will evaporate and the 
preparation will become a solid jelly-like mass which cannot be used. 
Fuming nitric acid, or a fifty per cent solution of chromic acid, will suc¬ 
cessfully remove warts, but in applying the same, precaution must be 
observed as in the above. 

Chilblains and Frostbites 

A chilblain is a superficial inflammation of the skin and underlying 
tissue, the result of exposure to cold. As the circulation of the blood is 
more feeble the further the vessels are removed from the central source 
of power, the heart, it follows that the hands and feet have a much less 
energetic circulation than other parts of the body. Any cause, therefore, 
that will impede or cut off the blood supply in such localities will cause 
the death of the tissues of those parts. When the feet are exposed 
to cold, the circulation will be slowed; the delicate nerves are un¬ 
able to act, and tissue change is arrested. When the parts are only 
slightly affected the condition is termed chilblain; when they aie scveiely 


3 42 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


affected it is called frostbite. The condition may vary from a slight 
temporary deadening, to complete death of the part, with sloughing of 
the tissues, known as gangrene. 

Chilblains may occur on the hands, feet, nose, and cheek, although 
the first two are the more usual sites. In mild cases there is tenderness, 
slight redness and swelling, and itching. Sometimes the swelling is 
quite marked and bluish. The itching and burning are most intense 
when the parts become warm. When blisters form and rupture they are 
known as broken chilblains, and this is often the beginning of serious 
mischief. Many cases of bunion are neglected chilblains of childhood, 
which have been irritated by imperfectly fitting shoes. An inflamma¬ 
tion has developed and causes permanent changes in the parts. 

Chilblains are more likely to occur in children of weak, anaemic, de¬ 
bilitated constitutions. In such conditions the circulation is poor through¬ 
out the body, and the child cannot withstand the same degree of cold as 
would merely produce a healthy glow in a more robust one. Tight shoes 
and stockings constrict the parts and impede the circulation. An adult 
knows how much colder a pair of new shoes renders the feet than does 
an old and comfortable pair. Children have less resisting power than 
grown persons, and if the stockings are wet, the moisture, being a good 
conductor of heat, will carry off the warmth of the parts. Persons with a 
tendency to foot-sweat are also frequent sufferers from chilblains, for 
the reasons just stated. 

If the child’s general health is poor, tonics and other constitutional 
treatment are necessary. If the feet perspire, warm, dry stockings should 
be put on just before going out and changed on coming in, precaution 
first being taken to rub the feet briskly. Such children should not be 
allowed to remain out long at a time. Warm woolen stockings and 
comfortable, broad shoes must be worn. When the chilblain first makes 
its appearance it should be rubbed in snow; if that is not obtainable, the 
foot should be plunged into ice water, and then be gently massaged with 
flannel, but not too briskly as it may rub off the skin and produce ulcers. 

To allay itching, the parts may be bathed in vinegar and water. Alum 
water and camphorated oil are good to harden the surface of the skin 
and to make it more resistant to cold. The painting of the parts with 
tincture of iodine or tincture of iron is efficacious. Under no circum¬ 
stances must the child be allowed to go near the fire. It is a common 
practice of children, and even of grown people, to dry their wet shoes at 
a fire. This is laying a foundation for chilblains and should be avoided. 

Frostbite 

The ears* tip of nose, lips, cheeks, fingers and toes, being most ex¬ 
posed to cold, are the chief sites of frostbite, which may, for practical 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


343 


reasons, be considered as a severe form of chilblain. A red nose, chang- 
ing to blue, then white, is characteristic of frostbite. The sharp ting¬ 
ling of cold gives way to numbness, and if not treated, the part shrivels 
up and decomposes, turning black. When there is danger of frostbites, 
it is better to protect the exposed parts with two layers of material equal 
in thickness to one, as the air between is a good non-conductor. Instead 
of a single pair of heavy stockings, two pairs of lighter weight should 
be worn. 

The same course of treatment is indicated as in chilblains. Many of 
the ulcers developing from this source can be prevented if the proper 
treatment is instituted promptly. 

Fever Blisters , or Cold Sores 

Fever blisters, herpes, or cold sores generally form on the lips where 
the mucous membrane and the skin meet. The corners of the mouth are 
favorite sites of these disagreeable and painful lesions. Any part of the 
body may be affected with them. It is generally supposed that the 
deterioration of the nervous system has a marked influence upon their 
formation. Certain acute febrile diseases which show marked nervous 
symptoms always present some form of herpes as one of the character¬ 
istic phases of the ailment. When found upon the body they usually fol¬ 
low the course of one of the intercostal muscles, crossing half-way round 
the bodjq and are then called shingles. An old superstition declares that 
when the ends of the eruption meet after encircling the body the indi¬ 
vidual will die. The vesicles ordinarily form on the lips and extend to 
the nose, the cheek, the forehead, and the ear. When no definite symp¬ 
toms of cold are found they are called fever blisters. If the vesicles are 
formed in the mouth they soon lose their top and develop into ulcerous 
patches called canker-sores. Indigestion is the most frequent cause of 
this form of herpes. 

The fever blister is a self-limited disease lasting from eight to four¬ 
teen days. No abortive treatment will prove of value; the only course 
being to relieve the disagreeable symptoms. The relief of the irritation 
and tension can best be accomplished by some protective dressing such 
as vaseline, cold cream, or other ointment. Painting with collodion is the 
best protective dressing, and court-plaster comes next in efficacy. Gen¬ 
eral systemic conditions must of course be improved and the source of 
irritation removed. 

Boils 

There is no essential difference between a pimple, a boil, and a car¬ 
buncle, except as to size and extent of tissue involved. A pimple is an 


344 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


inflammation of a hair follicle, without much involvement of the adja¬ 
cent tissue; the amount of pus formed is small and no scar is left. Boils 
involve the deeper tissues, which become hard, red, swollen, and pain¬ 
ful, and later suppurate, discharging a yellowish, tenacious mass called 
a core. Carbuncles may, for practical purposes, be considered as a num¬ 
ber of severe boils, which coalesce into one, forming a large cavity filled 
with dead tissue and virulent pus. The danger of carbuncle is from the 
rapid absorption of the pus, tending to produce a form of blood poison¬ 
ing which, if permitted to continue, may prove fatal. 

Boils are painful and tender; the underlying tissue involved being out 
of all proportion to the size of the lesion. As they occur most frequently 
on such parts of the body as are in constant motion, they interfere with 
the free use of those parts, and cause a stiffness which is very character¬ 
istic of the disease. As the inflammatory process continues, intense 
throbbing is felt, until the formation of pus is far enough advanced to 
lessen the tension of the skin. It soon becomes soft, and (< points”; 
shortly after there is a discharge of pus, succeeded by the expulsion of 
the (< core ” and then the reparative process begins. When the inflam¬ 
mation subsides before suppuration takes place, it is called a <( blind 
boil.» 

Certain seasons of the year are thought to increase the tendency of 
certain individuals to the development of boils; but the change of habits, 
occupation, and diet, with poor hygiene, is more likely to be the cause. 

It is usual to apply poultices to boils to (< bring them to a head,” but 
the modern treatment is to make an early incision in order to let out the 
congested, germ-laden blood, and then to wash the parts with some anti¬ 
septic fluid. Diluted peroxide of hydrogen is perhaps the best for this 
purpose. Some prefer the application of an ointment of acid salicylic, 
composed of 

Acid salicylic, 48 grains, 

Lard, 1 ounce. * 

Directions —Mix well and apply night and morning on a piece of plaster. 

The boil may be aborted if the hair growing in the center of the lesion 
be pulled out. To allay the pain from tension it is well to apply four 
narrow strips of adhesive plaster in the form of a hollow square about 
the boil, as near to the center as possible, leaving only room enough for 
the point of the boil to protrude. 


Moles 

Moles may occur upon any part of the body, but are more common 
upon the face and trunk. The large, hairy moles are congenital; while 
the smaller are both congenital and acquired. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


345 


Whenever possible, the growth should be removed by an experienced 
surgeon. The smaller ones can be removed by application of nitric acid, 
glacial acetic acid, or caustic potash, but, as these are poisonous, they 
should never be used in domestic practice except under specific directions 
of the physician. Hair moles are best treated by electricity, which is 
applied with needles inserted into the hair follicles. 


Shingles 

The peculiarity of shingles is the intense, throbbing neuralgic pain 
which accompanies the eruption of the vesicles and often precedes it by 
several days. The disease is often mistaken for neuralgia, rheumatism, 
pain in the lung, or a pain or ache accompanying an incipient cold, and is 
generally treated as such. The pain is entirely disproportionate to the 
amount of eruption, and is often so severe as to make movement of any 
kind impracticable. 

The eruption occurs as a minute pin-head cluster of vesicles which, 
from being entirely distinct in the beginning, are crowded together and 
then coalesce into patches of irregular form. This continues from four to 
six days, when the height of the eruption is reached. After remaining 
for several days at this point, the vesicles shrivel up, forming brown scabs, 
but they never break and run as in eczema. The eruption occurs in va¬ 
rious portions of the body, as the arm, head, or face, but the usual site 
is the intercostal region, where it follows closely the course of the 
nerves. 

Shingles rarely occurs twice in the same person, although in a few 
neurotic individuals it may recur year after year. The neuralgic pains 
and the burning sensation of the eruption are about the only points to be 
treated. Belladonna plasters, or an ointment of belladonna and opium 
may be used over the seat of the eruption. Tincture of iodine painted 
over the parts affords considerable relief. 


Birthmarks 

Birthmarks are found on children at their birth. They may be of unu¬ 
sual size, shape, or color, or they may be almost imperceptible. Whether 
these marks are due to prenatal influences or are the result of heredity 
cannot be successfully proved. The only positive thing that can be as¬ 
serted is that they are due to imperfect development. There seems to 
be, however, a weight of evidence against a belief in maternal impres¬ 
sion as a cause of their foundation, and a growing belief that the only ef¬ 
fect a mother can exert on her unborn child is one which affects its 
organic constitution through the quality and quantity of its nutrition. 


346 ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 

• These blemishes are called by the general name of 7kevi. They are 
superficial and vascular. Some of them are colored and elevated — 
the so-called mole. The latter forms the most common variety. The 
vascular ncevus is formed by the blood dilating the small superficial ves¬ 
sels of the skin, particularly about the face and neck, where they form 
the well-known <( spider marks, M and <( port-wine marks.® 

As a rule birthmarks as above described are of no special significance, 
causing no trouble other than the disfigurement. If they are so situated 
as to become subjected to irritation or injury, they may bleed and become 
sore. If the mark is in a locality where it will be hidden by the clothing, 
it is better to attempt no treatment. If it is on the face or other part of 
the body where it can be seen, or if it becomes inflamed or troublesome, 
it should be removed. It is a mistake to suppose that surgical interfer¬ 
ence of a mole will cause the development of cancer or other malignant 
growth. On the contrary, it is the proper procedure to insure against the 
possibility of the development of dangerous growths; for, while the child 
is young, the tumor must of necessity be small, and its removal will be 
attended with less danger, loss of tissue, or disfigurement. Then, too, 
the normal growth of the adjacent tissue will have a tendency to cover up 
the scar. Only a skilled surgeon can remove these blemishes, either with 
the knife or by electrolysis. By electrolysis is understood the removal 
by means of an electric current, applied by the use of a sharp needle in¬ 
serted into the ncevus. This is attended with but little pain and no dan¬ 
ger, but it requires skill and patience. 

Some of the smaller birthmarks entirely disappear as childhood ad¬ 
vances, and need, therefore, no attention in the beginning. In the vas¬ 
cular variety the capillaries are weak and distended, having no power to 
react. The appearance of the skin is one of superficial redness, simulat¬ 
ing a blush. When moderately large areas are involved about the fore¬ 
head, chin, or side of the face, no treatment, either surgical or otherwise, 
should be attempted, for any interference, to be at all effective, is almost 
sure to leave a scar. If this variety appears upon an extremity or any 
place where pressure can safely be applied, it will often prove efficacious 
to wrap elastic bandages around the part and preserve a continuous and 
uniform pressure for several months, or until the vessel walls have re¬ 
gained sufficient tone to contract properly and drive out the blood. 

Contagious Diseases 
Chicken-pox or Varicella 

This is an acute, contagious, febrile disease, accompanied by a vesic¬ 
ular eruption of slightly elevated rose-spots numbering from twenty 
to two hundred. The vesicles become filled with a watery fluid, within 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


347 


twenty-four hours after their first appearance. The disease has no 
premonitory symptoms by which a diagnosis can be made, and when 
the eruption appears, it runs a rapid course. 

A severe case of varicella may be confounded with a mild case of 
smallpox. There is this difference, however; the watery fluid in the 
vesicles of chicken-pox is never changed into a yellowish, purulent 
matter, as in smallpox; nor is there the characteristic noxious odor of 
the latter disease. Smallpox has a preliminary stage of pain in the 
loins, chills, vomiting and fever. When the eruption occurs, the tem¬ 
perature perceptibly drops. In varicella there is no fever until after 
the eruption takes place; in the latter the eruption is complete on the 
third day, and in smallpox on the ninth day. Varicella runs its 
course in six or seven days; while smallpox takes fifteen or twenty 
days. 

The treatment of varicella is simply rest in bed, a light, non-stimu¬ 
lating diet, cool drink, and cleanliness. 


Measles 

This is an infectious disease preceded by catarrhal symptoms of the 
head, and accompanied by a rash similar to that found in scarlet fever. 
The contagion is carried by fomites; i. e. , the various articles of cloth¬ 
ing, and no susceptible person can be exposed to the infection without 
risk of taking the disease. The symptoms are first premonitory, as 
just stated above, resembling those of an incipient cold. This condition 
is observed ten to fourteen days after exposure, accompanied by fever 
of about 103 degrees F. ; three or four days later an eruption ap¬ 
pears, first on the face, then on the neck and breast, and finally over 
the whole body. The eruption consists of small pimples or raised 
spots close together, but not coalescing as in scarlet fever. When the 
hand is pressed over the skin the eruption feels rough, and when the 
finger-nail is drawn through a thickly spotted area, the white streak 
produced quickly disappears. The thicker and more general the erup¬ 
tion, the better, for by this means the impurities of the blood are 
eliminated. Three or four days later the fever declines and the erup¬ 
tion begins to disappear, its disappearing being followed by scaling 
of the skin. This stage lasts several days, and the epidermis is cast off 
in little bran-like particles. The contagious period lasts until the 
scaling is complete, and it is a safe rule to keep the patient isolated 
even a week later. 

The sequela are more to be dreaded than the disease itself. Unless 
precaution is observed, there is danger of bronchitis, pneumonia, gland¬ 
ular swellings, or some chronic disease to which the patient is predis- 


34S 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


posed. This is particularly true in the case of children of weakened 
constitutions, or those afflicted with certain diathesis , such as scrofula 
and tuberculosis. What may be termed a mild case of measles, with 
scanty eruptions and but little fever, may pass into a grave form of 
disease because of neglect, due to the slight importance attached to 
the symptoms. 

The treatment in all cases from the very beginning should be, first, 
isolation; a darkened room to protect the eyes; cold sponge baths and 
a liquid diet. Second, when the fever abates and the eruption dries, 
a little solid food, such as fish, eggs, and the cereals, may be allowed 
and the room be a little less darkened; but isolation should be enforced 
until the scaling process is over. Sometimes a diarrhea supervenes 
as the rash declines, but it should not be checked unless it becomes 
excessive, as it is more likely to prove beneficial than otherwise. 

Scarlet Freer 

Scarlet fever, like measles, is an infectious disease. It is accom¬ 
panied by a scarlet rash, sore throat, and depression, both physical and 
mental. Disturbances, varying in different individuals, will exist in 
the mucous membrane of the stomach and bowels, in the kidneys, the 
circulation and the nervous system. The incubation period is from 
twenty-four hours to six days. 

The first symptoms are chills followed by high fever,— 104 to 106 
degrees F.,—inflamed and even ulcerated throat; thirst; rapid pulse; 
nausea and vomiting; frontal headache and, possibly,delirium. In about 
forty-eight hours the rose-red rash appears, first on the breast, grad¬ 
ually extending to the neck, face, trunk and extremities. It consists 
of innumerable red spots, smooth to the touch, and sometimes running 
together. In appearance the rash has been aptly compared to a boiled 
lobster shell. The finger-nail drawn through one of these patches 
leaves a white streak which remains a full half minute or so. The 
tongue is coated brown at first, with red tip and edges; afterward the 
coating peels off and it is left all red and beef-like. About the fifth 
day the efflorescence begins to decline, and entirely disappears about 
the eighth or ninth day. The cuticle subsequently exfoliates, but this 
process varies in duration. From the face and trunk it takes place in 
the form of scurf; from the hands and feet in the form of large flakes. 

The treatment includes isolation, inhalation of steam, frequent spong¬ 
ing with water and alcohol; a wet compress to the throat; and a liquid 
diet — cold water, gum water, rice water, lemonade, milk, and small pieces 
of ice. Upon the decline of the fever the following food may be per¬ 
mitted: toast, gruel, grapes, strawberries, peaches, roast apples. Disin- 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


349 


fectants such as Platt’s Chlorides should be used freely throughout the 
course of the disease. A sheet dipped in the solution and wrung out 
should be placed in front of each door, and clothes saturated in the same 
way should be hung around on the furniture and gas fixtures. As little 
furniture as possible should be left in the room. All changes of bed¬ 
clothes and patient’s nightdresses should be dipped in a solution of Platt’s 
Chlorides or carbolic acid — (proportion of a tablespoonful to a quart of 
water) — before leaving the apartment. When the patient has passed 
the peeling stage, he should be thoroughly rubbed with alcohol, followed 
by a weak solution of carbolic acid. He may then be removed to an¬ 
other room, while the sick chamber is being fumigated and scoured, 
including all the furniture. The woodwork of the room should then be 
freshly painted and the walls papered. 


Mumps 

This disease is an acute, specific infection, characterized by a swelling 
of the parotid and salivary glands. It is extremely contagious, being 
transmitted from one person to another by the breath or secretions of 
the mouth. It is endemic in all countries, and frequently occurs as an 
epidemic. It is more often found in children from five to fifteen years 
of age, being rare before the first year and seldom occurring in adults. 
The spring and autumn are the favorite seasons for its development, 
probably because of the fact that these two seasons are conducive to 
carelessness and exposure on the part of the child. The period of infec¬ 
tion lasts from two to three weeks, during which time the patient must 
be isolated. 

As this is a self-limited disease, no special treatment is indicated 
other than to guard against the possibility of complications, and to meet 
the indications as they arise. If the swollen glands are very painful they 
should be poulticed with flaxseed. Liquid food is the only kind that 
can be taken in severe cases, on account of the extreme pain occasioned 
by solids. 


Pertussis or Whooping Cough 

This is a specific, contagious disease of childhood, found more fre¬ 
quently in children of more than six months and less than five years of 
age, although no age is exempt. While one attack usually affords im¬ 
munity, second attacks have been known to occur. As a rule, the younger 
the child the more fatal the disease. The greater number of deaths is, 
however, attributable not so much to the disease itself as to the sequela. 
It seems to start up certain latent conditions, the presence of which may 


35° 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


or may not have been suspected. As a result, such complications as 
pneumonia, convulsions, tuberculosis, or digestive derangements may 
develop. 

Whooping cough is extremely infectious, and is communicated with 
great facility from one child to another. It may even be conveyed by 
the wearing apparel, toys, or other objects used by the infected one. 
All such children should be isolated, and not permitted to mingle with 
others, nor allowed upon the cars, in the public parks, or kindred places. 

The question is often asked, <( When is whooping cough catching?” 
In general terms it may be stated that the contagious state lasts for at 
least three months and, sometimes, longer. It is communicable from the 
beginning of the catarrhal stage, and lasts as long as there is any cough. 
The beginning of pertussis is so gradual that it is almost impossible to 
say just when it does begin. Most authorities agree that the invasive 
stage corresponds very closely to that of measles, which is from seven to 
fourteen days. If a child has been exposed to the source of infection and 
fails to develop the disease before the end of three weeks, it is fair to as¬ 
sume that, in all probability, he has escaped an attack. 

Usually the attack begins with a slight cold in the head, and a cough, 
which is more troublesome at night, and one that the usual remedies fail 
to relieve. At the expiration of a few days the cough appears to become 
more or less periodical. During coughing spells the face is suffused, and 
there is difficulty in breathing, which is usually, though not always, fol¬ 
lowed by vomiting. This may be termed the catarrhal stage. While in 
some children the characteristic whoop may be noted from the beginning, 
it is usually about two weeks before it appears, thus ushering in the spas¬ 
modic stage. The paroxysms now become longer and more severe. The 
whoop is caused by the short cough frequently repeated without taking a 
breath, and it is the long-drawn inspiration at the conclusion which gives 
the characteristic whoop. In some cases of a mild type it sometimes 
happens that no whooping takes place, yet the paroxysmal character of 
the cough indicates the nature. When the disease is fully established, a 
tough, tenacious mucus more or less streaked with blood is expectorated 
after coughing. 

The spasmodic stage is usually about one month in duration. Gradu¬ 
ally the severity of the attack abates; the whoop ceases and the cough 
bears a close resemblance to that of ordinary bronchitis. This stage lasts 
from three to four weeks. 

One of the peculiarities attending this disease is the habit which so 
often occurs in whooping cough long after the attack has ceased. In 
such cases the characteristic whoop returns after a period of intermission 
in which no cough is manifest. This must not be regarded as a return 
of the disease but simply as the cough habit which the disease fosters. 


ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND PATHOLOGY 


35 1 


Cough mixtures and cough syrups have no effect upon the paroxysms 
or the duration of the disease, and only make the stomach more irritable. 
Inhalations of steam or of vaporized carbolic acid or creosote are some¬ 
times beneficial by clearing the nose and pharynx of mucus, thus per¬ 
mitting freer breathing. 


Diphtheria 

Diphtheria is a disease best known by the grayish-white membrane 
which it causes, and is most commonly found in the throat. It is liable 
to be conveyed by the patient’s breath, which passes over the membranes 
and becomes impregnated with germs. The virus adheres to the cloth¬ 
ing, furniture, and all objects which the patient touches. Domestic 
animals have what corresponds to this disease, and it seems probable 
that they may convey it to man. After exposure, the disease may de¬ 
velop in from one to eight days. No sure means of warding off this 
attack is now known. 

The attack is ushered in with fever, sore throat, loss of appetite, and 
general malaise. The local lesions usually manifest themselves first 
upon the tonsils in the form of patches or follicles, giving it the appear¬ 
ance of an ordinary case of tonsillitis. The tonsils may be only slightly 
swollen, or they may be greatly enlarged. With the development of the 
membrane, the patches coalesce and extend into the pharynx, over the 
uvula, and, unlike the membrane found in ordinary tonsillitis, are tough 
and tenacious; extending into the mucous membrane so that, when de¬ 
tached, it leaves a raw, bleeding surface behind. 

No treatment will be given here, because the gravity of the situation 
is such that no person should for a moment think of attempting to treat 
a case without the assistance of a physician. During an epidemic, every 
case of sore throat should be looked upon with suspicion, the patient 
should be isolated and the energetic use of antiseptic sprays or gargles 
be at once instituted, pending the arrival of a physician. All cloths used 
to receive the expectorations should be burned at once. Where there is 
depression of breathing the following vapor may be used: Acid carbolic, 
i ounce; oil of eucalyptus, i ounce; turpentine, 8 ounces; two tablespoon¬ 
fuls to a quart of water placed in a shallow pan which is kept simmering 
over a slow fire. In nursing infants the milk must be obtained by a 
breast pump and fed to the child, for on no account should the child be 
placed to the breast. 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 


2 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO 

THE INJURED 


T he suggestion that another branch of study should be added to the 
public school curriculum will be received at first as absurd, in view 
of the prevalent feeling that this curriculum already contains more 
branches than any one <( small head ® can find room for. But our educa¬ 
tional system is a growing thing, and far indeed from its complete form; 
in the process of development it may happen that we shall discover some 
good and necessary branches of knowledge which may be added to it, 
as well as many that are useless or of secondary worth which should be 
discarded. 

It is strange, considering all the effort made by modern thinkers to 
follow Nature’s plan with the child, that the care with which she teaches 
and enforces her first law—self-preservation — has been overlooked. 
She begins her lessons with the first breath, working in the beginning 
through instinct, but as the will and mental powers develop, she gradually 
withdraws the intuition and leaves the individual to preserve his body 
alive by knowledge and experience. Is it not a duty devolving upon par¬ 
ents who have learned this lesson themselves to train their children in it ? 
Surely there is no question of the value of the knowledge. It would al¬ 
most seem reasonable to claim that the failure to give each new genera¬ 
tion proper training in self-preservation has deprived the whole race of 
a great advantage. When we compare the number of instincts which 
protect the child through his sense organs with the ignorance of the laws 
of health and the proper conduct in accidents and emergencies of the 
average adult, it is plain that the child has the germs of much greater 
power of self-preservation than the adult develops. 

The charming animal stories of Ernest Seton-Thompson and others 
show us how carefully the brute mother drills her young in all the 
knowledge that will help them to avoid and escape danger and to pre¬ 
serve life. It is because this has been faithfully done in each genera¬ 
tion that the wild animals are able to withstand the destruction of their 
natural conditions and to escape the snares and encroachments of man. 
And though we human mothers may scorn our poor brute sisters, we 
must yet recognize their motherhood. Their children have but one na¬ 
ture, and are doomed to perish, yet with all their powers, and at any 
cost, they train and broaden and strengthen that one gift and benefit all 
who come after them. Our children have the threefold endowment of 
body, mind, and spirit, and we have an obligation to develop each part of 
it to the fullest; and though the physical nature has sometimes been 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 353 

ranked below the others, certain it is that mind and soul depend upon it. 
It is true that much of the early home-training relates entirely to the 
preservation of the body; we always teach babies that fire will burn, 
knives cut, falls hurt, etc., but there is little thought as to how this 
should be done, little effort to systematize the instruction, and less to 
continue it as the children grow older. Many of us make the mistake of 
using fear to impress these facts upon the minds of young children; we 
teach them to avoid dangers in order to escape pain, and we make no 
effort to show them that the real injury is to the tissues or bones, that 
pain is merely a symptom, a warning that we must take better care of 
the body intrusted to us. 

We make too little of the gift of life; it is every being’s first and 
greatest wealth, and we should be able to free ourselves from the idea 
that the body and its necessities should be treated with contumely — 
which has come down to us from old and savage religious rites. 

\ In all our efforts to teach self-preservation, let us be careful to elim¬ 
inate fear of pain as a means of impressing children. The real evil 
lies in the injury to that body which every one of us should strive to 
keep in the best possible condition, not because we shall suffer pain if 
we do not, but because it is the home of the mind and soul, and can 
neither develop freely nor do its perfect work in an illy-cared-for body. 

Little children show a natural love for their own members, which 
should be utilized in teaching them how to preserve and care for them. 
John, being a normal boy, wants to swim, to hunt, to ride, to drive, to 
brave the storm and the snow; to sail a boat, to experiment with 
chemicals, with fire, and steam, and electricity. 

It is rare indeed that a boy is not forbidden these pleasures, and 
much rarer that he does not take them in spite of prohibition. And 
it is by no means an uncommon event for boys to be drowned, shot, 
thrown, made ill by exposure, maimed, or burned, or otherwise injured in 
the pursuit of them. It is because we understand the dangers that lurk 
in all these things that we forbid them, but there are few things more 
difficult than to convince the average boy that they really exist, or that 
he is liable to be their victim. If we could do this there would be a won¬ 
derful lessening of disobedience and accidents. 

.If all boys were trained in self-preservation and the proper course in 
case of accident, would not the training convince them of the existence 
of danger ? Take, for instance, the method of resuscitating the drown¬ 
ing,_suppose school children were given a certain amount of drill in it, 

would not boys see more clearly the dangers of water and instinctively 

use more caution ? 

We have, heretofore, taught self-preservation through fear alone. 
Now fear is a low and despicable motive for any action, would not 
1—23 


354 SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 

knowledge be a better one ? To tell a boy that he may not go in swim¬ 
ming because he may drown is seldom of any use. In the first place, he 
cannot believe in the danger; the knowledge that you have gotten by 
accumulated experiences cannot take hold of his mind; there is no way 
for it to impress him unless he have the implicit faith in what other 
people believe that is about as rare as it is dangerous. But the fre¬ 
quent drill at home or at school in prevention and resuscitation impresses 
him with the real existence of danger, not as a vague fear, but as one 
of the common every-day facts of life, which he accepts sensibly and 
provides for. 

In many public schools, children are already given instruction in the 
injurious effects of alcohol upon the body. They usually show a great 
interest in this study, and there is no indication that it produces any 
morbid or hypochondriac effects. 

It frequently happens in river towns, where the boys spend much of 
their vacation leisure in the water, that a plainly preventable death oc¬ 
curs through their ignorance. In a typical case, five boys, from ten to 
fourteen years of age, were swimming in the Ohio River. Probably every 
boy of them had (< run away, w and had a more or less uneasy conscience. 
Charlie, who was one of the older boys, was seized with (< cramps, }) cried 
out for help, and sank instantly. He was in the midst of the party and 
not far from shore; within call were a house-boat and a number of team¬ 
sters hauling gravel. At Charlie’s cry all of the other boys made for the 
shore in a panic; each snatched his clothing, hid himself in the willows 
until he was dressed, then ran away from the river as fast as he could. 
Perhaps in all their minds there was no other thought, than the fear of 
being caught near it. Twenty minutes later they came together in a 
near-by park and discussed the accident in whispers. Reason dawned 
in them at last, and they rushed down the levee and told the teamsters 
that Charlie was drowned. The body was easily found, but by this 
time half an hour or more had passed, and life could not be restored. 
Had Charlie’s companions been instructed in the methods of restoring 
the drowned, they might have been cool enough to rescue him, and to 
call help; and, failing to get it, would have been capable themselves of 
resuscitating him, for, as in many other unexplored branches of knowl- 
lege, the first aid to the injured is simple enough to be understood and 
practised even by children. 

Broken arms, sprained ankles, and cuts that cause dangerous bleed¬ 
ing, are common to boys. They usually occur when there are no 
grown people about', and nine times in ten, serious consequences are 
entirely due to the ignorance or mishandling of boy-companions. A 
boy falling from a tree and breaking his arm may have at first only 
what is known as a simple fracture, that is the bone alone is broken, 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 355 . 

but this is not visible on the outside, the child is helped home by his 
playmates, and in doing so the jagged edges of the bone are driven 
into and lacerate the surrounding tissues, and the simple fracture be¬ 
comes compound, much more painful and difficult to heal. 

But suppose this same party of boys to have had some instruction 
in fractures, and to have been drilled for just such an emergency. 
They will lay the injured child flat upon the grass, knowing that a 
broken limb is a common result of such a fall, and that any movement 
of one so injured may greatly increase the trouble, and, also, that the 
break does not always show on the outside, they will first examine 
their comrade gently to find where he is hurt. If it be found that a 
limb is broken, they have been taught to cut away the clothing from 
it, and how to construct temporary splints from two pieces of board, 
or even of fishing rods or boughs from a tree, padded softly with hand¬ 
kerchiefs or underclothing and bound on each side of the injured limb, 
so that it may not be jarred in removing him to the nearest house. 
They will know, too, that wet handkerchiefs laid on the injury will 
soothe a little, and how to make a stretcher of a board or shutter, or 
even of boughs. There is a regulation drill for the United States Hos¬ 
pital Corps which might be easily adapted to classes of children, and 
any American boy or girl will be delighted to drill with stretcher 
and bandage in imitation of the army they love so well. 

It is true that here and there a boy or girl might go through a life 
of average length without having occasion to use the knowledge thus 
gained, but such a case would be exceptional. As we do not educate 
our children for the emergencies of childhood only, but to meet all possi¬ 
ble accidents and conditions of an entire life, we could hardly give them 
too much knowledge of the structure of the body and its requirements, 
how to preserve it in health, and how to repair injuries. Certain it is 
that this knowledge is of first importance to mothers, and seems quite as 
necessary to the proper education of girls as is arithmetic, domestic 
science, or psychology. In neighborhoods where there are mothers’ 
clubs, it would be easy to give the children this kind of training. 

Any physician will generously instruct the mothers what to dp in case 
of accident. This does not mean that the whole art of surgery is to be 
imparted in a lecture, but that in the many cases of injury it is of value 
to know just what to do before the surgeon can arrive. The child that 
has fallen from a tree and broken his arm, or has been bitten by his dog, 
or has cut an artery or a vein, or has inhaled carbonic acid gas, or has got 
a button up his nostril, or has eaten rat poison, has seldom any time to 
lose if he is to be relieved of suffering. In all of these cases there are per¬ 
fectly simple things to do that will soothe pain, lessen the injury, and in 
some cases save life, but they must be done instantly,—prior to the com- 


35 6 SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 

mg of the doctor. The adjustment of a bandage about a sprained ankle 
is a matter simple enough for any child to learn, yet not one which many 
persons are likely to understand by intuition, but having once seen it 
properly done by a physician, any mother in any neighborhood could 
gather the children together and teach them to bandage their dollies or 
each other, and the knowledge would last. 

In many cases of shock from injury, in (( sunstroke,” or as we call it 
now, heat prostration, in acute poisoning, in asphyxiation, in severe 
fright, and any accident which brings long unconsciousness, the artificial 
respiration is quite as useful as in drowning. Any one who has once 
seen Sylvester’s method could apply it successfully in an emergency. A 
little book called (< Accidents, Emergencies, Illnesses,” published gratui¬ 
tously by The New York Mutual Life Insurance Company, gives the fol¬ 
lowing directions for resuscitating the drowning: As soon as the person 
is recovered from the water, turn the face and head downward for a mo¬ 
ment, thrusting the finger backward in the mouth, pressing the tongue 
slightly forward in order to remove a small quantity of water or mucus 
which collects at the base of the tongue, and tends to obstruct the pas¬ 
sage of air into the windpipe (trachea). It used to be the practice to hang 
the patient head downward, or to roll him over a barrel, in order to <( ex¬ 
pel the water from the lungs, ” but it has been proven that no water gets 
into the lungs, hence these practices are useless, and certainly barbarous. 
Drowned persons die' from want of air, therefore to restore the breath¬ 
ing is the first duty. Strip and roll rapidly in dry blankets, lay flat and 
rub extremities with the hand. Since there are numerous accidents of 
this kind at places where blankets are not immediately procured, chil¬ 
dren should be taught to think of all possible substitutes, as the dry coats 
or skirts of the rescuers. 

The tongue of the patient should be pulled forward and held by the 
tip with a handkerchief, allowed to slip gently backward when the breath 
is expelled. This holding of the tongue is an extremely delicate and 
difficult operation in some cases, and probably could often not be done at 
all by one who has never practised it. The little book quoted remarks 
that <( it is sometimes necessary to thrust a hat pin or needle threaded 
with coarse thread through the tip to hold it by,” since unless it be 
drawn forward it may shut off the air from the (< windpipe.” 

The mode of producing artificial respiration is as follows: Draw the 
arms away from the sides of the body and upward so as to meet over the 
head, which will raise the ribs and expand the chest, creating a vacuum 
in the lungs and purifying the blood by driving the impure gases out of 
it, and supplying it with oxygen. Bring the arms down to the sides and 
make the elbows almost meet over the stomach, thus contracting the 
walls of the chest and expelling impure air from the lungs. These two 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 


357 


movements cause an act of respiration; they should be made at the rate of 
about sixteen to the minute — four seconds to each complete movement — 
and persisted in until breathing takes place naturally, or the surgeon ar¬ 
rives. A little brandy in water — a teaspoonful every minute until five or 
six are taken — may be given to stimulate; or better, some beef-tea, or hot 
milk; with these there should be constant effort to warm the body and ex¬ 
tremities by hot applications or rubbing. A class of children would take 
the drill in producing respiration as an interesting physical exercise. If 
they could have with it some instruction in how drowning produces death, 
they would probably gain from it a certainty of dangers which they can¬ 
not otherwise believe in. This knowledge has nothing whatever to do 
with fear, but is only such a reasonable view of indisputable facts as 
every grown person gains by experience. Boys risk drowning because 
they have had no experience to prove the reality of the danger. 

In the same way children should understand the first aid in case of 
accidental wounds. -They should be taught to judge something of the 
seriousness of such an injury by the color and character of the bleed¬ 
ing which follows; the blood from the capillaries and small vessels is 
bright in color and comes freely, but soon ceases. Blood from the veins 
is purple, and flows evenly without force, while arterial blood is bright 
red, flows in jets or pulsations, and quickly drains away the life force. 
It is generally possible to tell by these indications the character of the 
vessels injured. Nature stops the mouths of broken blood vessels 
with little clots of blood formed round their edges. A sharp instru¬ 
ment makes a clean cut through the blood vessels, and there are no 
little shreds and projections where clots can gather, hence these wounds 
bleed most freely. In the case of a small wound (such as a cut finger), 
elevate the part above the head and press upon the wound firmly with 
a cloth wet in cold water, for a few minutes. If this is not enough to 
stop the bleeding, use a piece of ice wrapped in cloth, or water as hot 
as can be borne. Heat or cold will contract the blood vessels and 
pressure will obstruct them. In cases of more severe wounds, roll a 
cloth or handkerchief into a hard wad, wet thoroughly in cold water, 
and bind closely over the wound; the pressure should suffice to com¬ 
pletely stop the bleeding, and may be kept on for several hours. 

As arterial bleeding is very fast, quickness is necessary in order to 
save life. This fact should be impressed upon the minds of children 
receiving (< First Aid to the Injured » drills, and mothers who are them¬ 
selves making a study of it. This impression made in moments of 
calmness will be uppermost in the emergency, and, having fixed itself 
upon the reason, will have its effect in sobering and calming. It would 
be a most incapable and ungoverned mother, who, having once appre¬ 
hended the nature and consequences of certain injuries, and learned by 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 


35 8 

practice how to treat them, would (< lose her head” and allow her child 
to suffer or die while she is indulging in nervousness and fright. 

In cases of arterial hemorrhage from the upper extremities, compress 
the large artery, along the side of the upper arm. It may be located by 
the pulsations which are easily felt. The pressure should be applied upon 
it outward, and slightly backward, against the bone just below the shoul¬ 
der and armpit. It may be done temporarily by the finger and thumb 
firmly pressed upon it. In the meantime a piece of stone, a round piece 
of wood, or even a watch may be tightly tied in a cloth, or a number of 
knots made in a handkerchief and all tied into a bunch will answer, and 
laid over the artery right by the fingers, and tied round the arm by the 
ends of the handkerchief, or by another; tie a smooth stick in the knot, 
and by twisting it the bandage may be tightened until the bleeding has 
stopped entirely, —but no tighter. This contrivance is called the Span¬ 
ish Windlass. If the wound is in the forearm, compress the artery just 
above the elbow; if high up in the arm it may be necessary to compress 
the subclavicular artery — under the collar bone — by thrusting the fin¬ 
gers or handle of a large key firmly down behind the collar bone and 
pressing the artery against the first rib. In the lower extremity, the 
artery reaches the thigh just where it joins the abdomen and may be 
felt pulsating about the middle of the groin. It then passes down the 
inner side of the thigh, gradually turning backward until it can be felt 
throbbing between the cords under the knee. If the wound is below the 
knee, the <( Spanish Windlass ® can be applied under this artery, which 
is called the popliteal. Where this is difficult to reach, it may be ap¬ 
plied on the femoral artery, at the inner side, near the top of the thigh. 

In connection with this, both mothers and children should be taught 
something of the dressing of wounds and the use of antiseptics. In 
drilling children, they should be required to scrub the hands with a 
nail brush and soap, before beginning, and should secure as absolute 
cleanliness as a competent surgeon invariably demands. All this will 
enlighten them as to the presence of germs in the air, and the mis¬ 
chief these may work, and will be an added incentive toward general 
cleanliness of person and habits. If this course of instruction is at¬ 
tempted by mothers for the children of a neighborhood, the little book 
distributed by the New York Mutual Life Insurance Company, and 
freely quoted here, would prove an excellent text-book. 

Another argument in favor of such a course of instruction for school 
children lies in the probability that it would prove an excellent assist¬ 
ant in preventing and curing secret injurious habits—as well as 
other unhygienic practices. When a child can look upon his body as 
a wonderfully planned yet very delicate machine, put into his care, 
and can get practical ideas of how to care for it, he has a defense 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 359 

against the temptation of self-indulgence, more active for him than 
prohibitions or precepts. 

The family medicine chest has gone out of fashion, but might be 
revived in a modernized form to the benefit of most households. A 
drawer which is easily reached, and which everybody knows where 
to find, should be kept for the things likely to be needed in emergen¬ 
cies, and none of these should be lacking at any time, fresh ones being 
supplied as fast as needed. There should be a variety of narrow muslin 
bandages, torn lengthwise of the cloth, rolled tightly and pinned; a 
package of absorbent cotton; a quantity of old cloths, linen or muslin, 
that have been boiled a long time in clean water and smoothly ironed; 
a small soft sponge that has also been well boiled; a cake of Castile 
soap; a package of baking soda; and a box of beef-extract — the soda as 
an antidote to acid poisons, and the beef for beef-tea, in cases of injury 
where the strength is rapidly exhausted. 

Boric acid is now much used as an antiseptic; it is a white powder 
easily dissolved in water; wounds and their surrounding surface are 
washed in a solution formed by putting a heaping teaspoonful in a glass 
of warm water. By mixing one teaspoonful of boric acid with three of 
bismuth, one can make an excellent drying powder for wounds, burns, 
and like injuries. This powder may be made and kept in a close box. 
It is also well to have carbolic acid, but to remember that it should never 
be used stronger than one part to thirty of water — that is, one table¬ 
spoonful to a pint of water. 

This drawer might also contain a pair of small, blunt-pointed, sharp, 
and always clean scissors, for clipping the skin of blisters (do not cut the 
skin away, clip and leave to protect the burned flesh). 

Collodion is a solution of gun-cotton in alcohol, with castor oil to 
make it flexible; with it keep a small clean brush. It makes an excellent 
coating for a burn; is <( painted w on in three or four layers, one layer 
being allowed to dry before the other is put on. It is much better for 
small cuts than plaster. There should be a supply of adhesive plaster 
for larger wounds, which, after the wound and its surrounding surfaces 
have been well washed, should be put on in strips set close along the 
line of the wound, holding its edges together, after which it should 
be dusted well with the boric acid and bismuth powder, or iodoform, 
covered with several layers of lint or clean old linen or muslin kept in 
place by a light bandage. 

Other medicines for this drawer are aromatic spirits of ammonia, ex¬ 
cellent as a stimulant in cases of shock resulting from many kinds of in¬ 
juries, and brandy, which is a good stimulant at this time, because its 
aromatic quality prevents it from producing nausea as other alcoholic 
liquors are likely to do. 


360 SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED 

The dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia for an adult is about twenty 
drops in a wineglassful of water. Any druggist will write on the 
label the dose for a child of a given age. This drawer can hardly con¬ 
tain the little pieces of ice, which, swallowed whole, will relieve nausea, 
nor the snow with which to rub frosted feet, or frozen chilblains, nor 
the rug with which fire may be smothered out of their burning cloth¬ 
ing, but the provision for other accidents may help us to remem¬ 
ber these when the time comes. A large-handled key, or a hairpin, 
bent into a hook, might be there to fish things out of the top of the 
throat, or (the key) to lay in cold water or on the ice, to get cold, so 
that it may be held on the back of the neck to stop nose bleeding. 
Remember, in this connection, that the child should not hold his head 
down, nor put it into a bowl of cold water, this will only increase the 
trouble. Another thing, Nature’s only means of stopping a hemorrhage 
from a blood vessel is by plugging it up with a clot: do not then allow 
the child to <( blow his nose, and so destroy what she is doing for him 

There is a long list of poisonous substances which are now and then 
used in housekeeping, and which children occasionally eat, to their great 
injury. In all such cases it is of course best to send for a physician, but 
the poison will too often do its fatal work before he can arrive. When 
the poison is one which may be ejected, the first step is to give an emetic. 
Carbolic acid, lime, and kindred substances destroy the tissues so quickly 
that it is necessary to dilute and neutralize them first. Flaxseed should 
be kept in the drawer; tea made of it is good for all corrosive poisons; 
while it is being made, the whites of eggs, milk, flour and water, and 
similar substances may be used. In the case of lime poisoning, or any 
other alkali, use vinegar or lemon juice diluted in water. A list of 
poisons and their antidotes, arranged alphabetically, should be kept in 
the drawer, with such of the antidotes as will keep in sealed bottles. 

When poisons are kept in the house in any form there is always the 
danger that they may be taken by small children. The preventive of 
such deplorable accidents lies in common sense and training. All medi¬ 
cines should be labeled, and be kept in a certain place, out of reach of chil¬ 
dren. Rat and insect poisons, and other household drugs, not used for 
medicines, should be put in a different. place equally inaccessible to the 
little ones. Having enforced these precautions the mother should train 
her children not to (< meddle w with the property of others, for moral 
reasons. Experience shows this to be quite possible. There are many 
mothers who may safely trust even their smaller children, who never 
lock up the dainties, hide the fruit, or put things of the kind out of 
reach, and whose children respect their wishes in regard to them. Such 
mothers not only save themselves trouble but give their little ones excel¬ 
lent drill in self-control and honor. 


SELF-PRESERVATION AND FIRST AID TO INJURED ' 361 

Fastidious habits are -useful in these cases. A child who has them is 
not likely to taste anything which he does not know all about. Cultiva¬ 
tion of the sense of taste makes it much more acute, and little children 
should never be forced to eat anything which they dislike; by doing so 
their delicacy of taste and their dependence upon it are weakened. It is 
now possible to give many medicines in capsules or sugared globules, 
and it is due to children to give them all the advantage possible in this 
direction. There is some subtle connection between delicacy of the 
sense of taste and refinement of habits and character; perhaps it is be¬ 
cause Nature is fond of symmetry and makes constant efforts to establish 
it in the three-fold nature of man. Where there is purity, strength, and 
beauty in one of the three parts of it she exerts herself to produce them 
in the others. 

Nature has done much for mothers. Besides the abiding blessings of 
motherhood, she bestows upon us much instinctive wisdom and develops 
for us many hidden virtues. But it is a mistake to suppose that she is 
capable, unassisted, of making ideal mothers of ordinary women — she 
expects considerable and continuous effort upon our part to supplement 
all she gives and all she does. 

We must expect to carry into the blessed estate of motherhood the 
same faults of character and deficiencies of education that would hamper 
us in undertaking any other profession. We should not depend upon 
our own instincts and the experience and traditional love of older 
women; surely investigation, thought, and study are as applicable to 
child-training as to chemistry or engineering. True, many people hold 
that motherliness comes by gift of nature, and laugh at the idea of 
improving this gift by study. Perhaps this is the reason why it is such 
a delicate task to write upon this subject — one goes at it timidly. Since 
the world began there has been in it but one perfect man, but from the 
dawn of history there have been teachers of morality, and few of them 
have been ridiculed because they were not themselves capable of that 

perfection of conduct which they taught. 

The world recognizes that such teachers were only clearing the way 
and surveying, as it were, ahead of their fellows. Morality has always 
been recognized as a perfect thing of itself, not subject to personali¬ 
ties The proper training of children is a thing which is unattainable 
in its perfection, just as proper conduct is, but this does not affect the 
obligation to strive toward it; and she who lays down rules and dis¬ 
cusses methods should be judged by the value of them, not silenced 
by the fact that she herself may have human limitations and might 
not be able to practise successfully all that she may preach helpfully. 
The writer of this article has striven to say the things which will be of 
real use to her sisters; she has no wish to be a discoverer of thcoiies 


3 62 


CHILDREN’S OCCUPATIONS 


or an apostle of new ideas. She has gathered what seemed to her the 
best, from observation, from personal experience, and from many writ¬ 
ers, both American and European; and to the best of her wisdom, she 
has.selected, combined, and deduced the methods herein suggested. Her 
hope is that no mother may find them formidable and give up the effort 
to improve herself as hopeless. 

It is impossible to describe at length, any action, and the reasons 
for it, without making it appear disproportionately complicated. Were 
an anatomist to describe in a book the whole process of quenching 
the thirst, or even that of drawing a breath, it would take many words 
and much space and make the act seem an exertion. Many of the 
plans suggested here are as natural and simple as drinking or breath¬ 
ing— though they may appear difficult because one sees them in print. 
Discouragement is a sad and troublesome guest, imposing, in the long 
run, much more effort than enthusiasm ever does. No matter how 
sincerely a mother may feel that all this study and improvement are 
impossible to her, and that she cannot keep up with her neighbors, 
she must still take care of her children, and if she will not go on strug¬ 
gling for the best ways, she must still suffer a penalty for mistakes 
and failures. 

Such thoughts should not be encouraged; human children have human 
mothers, hence they are subject to much mistaken management and 
worthless teaching,— but they can survive a great deal of it, and grow up 
to be useful men and women in spite of it. If only the mother will untir¬ 
ingly do her best, rising each day to higher things, climbing upon her 
mistakes and failures, she will develop with her children. 

Conversely, it should be remembered that human mothers have human 
children, and there is no reason to expect perfect children even from per¬ 
fect theories of training. (< Be to their faults a little blind and to their 
virtues very kind w is a charitable old couplet applicable to both mothers 
and children, and not inappropriate to the case of one who has honestly 
striven to do a little thinking and reading for earnest and busy mothers. 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


363 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 

I n every household, particularly those containing children, some provi¬ 
sion should be made for administering temporary relief in case of 
sudden illness or accident, to tide over the moments of suffering on 
the part of the child and of anxiety on the part of the parent till the 
doctor comes. In the beginning, let it be distinctly and emphatically 
understood, that under no circumstance should the parent, or even 
a trained nurse, usurp the position of the physician, by attempting to 
take his place in prescribing for the child. The medicine chest is not 
designed as a substitute for the doctor, but it is to be used in emergen¬ 
cies and should contain such remedies and appliances as the physician 
may need when suddenly called, which he may desire to administer him¬ 
self, without wasting the precious time that would be consumed in ob¬ 
taining it from a drug-store or elsewhere. It is true that in cities and 
towns, doctors and drug-stores are generally within easy reach, and the 
need of a home medicine chest is thereby lessened; but emergencies 
often arise when it will be found most convenient and helpful, while to 
those who live remote from medical aid, it should be considered a ne¬ 
cessity. 

Many suggestions have been made as to the most desirable methods 
of keeping a family medicine chest. Some prefer to keep the medicine 
on a shelf in a closet, in a bureau drawer, in a box, in the bath-room or 
wherever their fancy or convenience may dictate. Each has its advan¬ 
tages and its disadvantages, but on the whole the plan best suited is a 
box especially prepared for the purpose. Many styles of medicine chest 
are to be found in the stores, but if one does not desire to purchase, one 
can be made at home that will answer every purpose. Any box of suit¬ 
able size can be utilized, the ordinary wooden cracker box with hinge lid 
found in any grocery store, being as good as any. The front can be re¬ 
moved and drawers of suitable depth can be inserted; Or cleats can be 
fastened to the sides and small shelves made to slide in and out. The 
most convenient form, however, and the one adapted to the greatest 
number of homes, is made as follows: — 

Remove the front of the box, and with a saw divide the front into 
two pieces lengthwise of the board. The part next the lid should be 
from five to six inches in width. Suppose the narrow or top piece to be 
six inches wide, replace this piece on the front next the top and fasten 
cleats the same distance on three sides of the box. A thin board, cut 
just to fit the inside of the box, is placed on the cleats, dividing the box 
into two compartments, an upper and a lower. The upper or tray-like 
part is for the medicines, and the lower or cupboard part for dressings, 


3 6 4 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


bandages, instruments, and other appliances. The remaining piece of 
the front is now fastened to the bottom by means of hinges, so that both 
the top and side can be easily raised or let down and the desired article 
found. The box may be covered with denim or cretonne, and will pre¬ 
sent a neat appearance in the bedroom. It may be placed in a closet, 
in a corner out of the way, or, better still, on a small stand. The upper 
part should be so constructed that it can be readily fastened with lock 
and key. An ordinary catch will do for the lower part. The variety of 
designs is limited only by the ingenuity and taste of the household. 
Any boy with a knowledge and taste for tools can make at trifling cost 
a medicine chest which for convenience will prove all that can be de¬ 
sired. 

Whatever method may be employed in keeping medicines, there are 
several rules that should and must be observed to avoid the possibility 
of accident: — 

First — All medicines must be kept under lock and key to prevent chil¬ 
dren from having access to them. 

Second —All bottles must be carefully labeled, to avoid the mistake of 
getting the wrong medicine. 

Third —Never put medicine in a bottle which bears the label of its 
former contents. A well-known druggist once took aconite instead of 
whiskey, because of a disregard of this rule, and died in consequence. 

Fourth — Never put medicine in a bottle without first washing it out 
thoroughly, no matter how well it is supposed to have been cleansed be¬ 
fore. Even if it is cleansed of all traces of its former contents, dust and 
germs of fermentation may have gathered in it. 

Fifth —Never use a cork that has been used for some other medicine, 
as it absorbs the fluid and may affect the new liquid. 

Sixth — Always shake the bottle before pouring out medicine, for even 
though the label does not so direct, it will do no harm and often does 
good, as some sediment will frequently form at the bottom of the bottle. 
It at least assures the thorough mixing of the contents. 

Seventh — Never administer a dose of medicine in the dark. 

Eighth —Always read the label before pouring out and be sure that 
the right medicine is used before it is given to the patient. The exercise 
of a little care in this direction would have prevented many an accident. 

Ninth — Always replace the stopper or cork in the bottle immediately 
after pouring out the liquid, as in many cases the latter deteriorates by 
coming in contact with the air. All liquids containing alcohol, ether, 
chloroform, or essential oil are volatile, that is, they quickly evaporate when 
exposed to the air. This causes the liquid to become concentrated, so 
that each dose is stronger than the preceding one. A number of cases 
of fatal poisoning, especially in children, have occurred from this cause. 
The child took the first few doses with impunity, but the active principle 
of the drug becoming proportionately stronger with each dose, caused fatal 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 365 

poisoning with the last dose, because a sufficiently large amount of the 
drug was taken at that time to cause death. 

Tenth — In pouring out a dose of medicine always hold the bottle with 
the label uppermost, to prevent soiling or staining the label. Sometimes 
the contents of the bottle are of such a character that they obliterate the 
ink with which the directions upon the label are written. Pour out the 
desired quantity, read the label carefully again to be sure no mistake has 
been made and then replace the stopper by bringing in the bottle to the 
stopper and letting it gently fall into- its place. This is done in case of a 
shallow vessel or spoon, to avoid spilling the contents. Place the bottle 
back in its accustomed place before giving the medicine to the patient. 

Eleventh — Always place poisonous substances in colored or peculiar 
shaped bottles, or have some device so arranged that your attention will 
be called to the fact that the bottle contains poison. 

Twelfth — Always replace a bottle in the same spot it occupied, and do 
so at once. Never wait, as something is liable to distract your attention 
and the bottle is forgotten. 

Thirteenth — Every bottle should have its own place and should always 
be kept there so as to avoid delay in hunting for it; also to avoid accident 
by mistaking some other bottle for it. 

A few things to remember about medicines: — 

First — That some are damaged by light, dampness, or heat; therefore, they 
should be kept in a dark, dry, and cool place. A few, like nitrate of silver, 
must be kept in colored bottles, as the light destroys them very rapidly. 

Second —That medicines deteriorate with age; therefore, only a small 
quantity should be purchased at a time and frequently renewed. 

Third —That so-called cheap drugs are usually stale or damaged, and are 
therefore inert. 

Fourth —That liquids evaporate and either lose their strength or become 
concentrated and hence dangerous. 

Tifth — That prescriptions are designed for the case in hand and are not 
applicable to others as a rule, even when a person is suffering from appar¬ 
ently the same disease. Therefore, when the medicine is no longer needed for 
the person for whom it was prescribed, the remainder should be thrown away. 

Sixth — That mixtures containing sugar, such as syrups, soon become 
sour; therefore, they should be frequently examined and if found to be sour, 
they should be immediately rejected. 

Seventh — That many remedies used for external purposes contain poisons; 
therefore, they should be kept separate from those designed to be taken 
internally. 

Eighth _That medicines sometimes affect people differently; age, sex, 

and temperament have much to do with the action of a drug. Persons who 
are used to taking a certain remedy will probably require more of it to ob¬ 
tain a given effect than one who is unaccustomed to its use. Thus, one 
who is habitually taking cathartics or narcotics will require a larger dose 
of the first to move the bowels, and of morphine or opium to relieve pain, 


366 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


than one who does not take them. Personal peculiarities must also be 
looked for. It is necessary to know these facts before concluding that 
the remedy is not doing the work for which it was designed. 

Ninth —That disease often fortifies the system against the action of 
remedies, so that the dose has to be increased to obtain perceptible ef¬ 
fects. Thus pain or delirium tremens will interfere greatly with the pro¬ 
duction of narcotism by opium; or spinal disease with purgation. Disease 
may altogether prevent the action of a remedy. In all these cases two 
rules should never be lost sight of: First, never give the medicine in such 
doses as would, in health, cause death; second, always be sure, before 
giving a large quantity, that the dose will not make matters worse, — as a 
drastic cathartic in case of obstruction of the bowels. 

Tenth — That climate, by producing physical habits or tendencies in 
the patient, often greatly influences the proper selection and dose of rem¬ 
edies. It is only necessary to allude to the great consumption of quinine 
in malarial regions as an example. 

Eleventh — That habit, including mode of life, seems to alter the very 
constitution of an individual. Not only does it give type to disease, by 
producing habitual plethora, or its opposite, but it also fortifies against 
the action of single remedies, or whole classes of them. Thus in a per¬ 
son addicted to the opium habit, a dose sufficiently large to kill an ordi¬ 
nary man serves only to gratify the cravings of appetite. Again, a man 
accustomed to one narcotic, as alcohol or opium, loses to a greater or less 
degree, his susceptibility to all narcotic influences; and the patient whose 
bowels require to be moved daily by a cathartic, finds that he responds 
more and more slowly to medicines of that class. Again, a nervous sys¬ 
tem blunted by exposures and toil in the open air is far less susceptible 
to the action of remedies, and requires larger doses, than does a delicate 
organization, perhaps weakened by indolence and luxury. 

Twelfth — That temperaments are peculiarities of organization charac¬ 
terizing classes of individuals; idiosyncrasies are peculiarities belonging to 
single individuals. These idiosyncrasies are numerous, cannot be foreseen, 
and are often very important; hence the necessity, when prescribing for 
an unfamiliar patient, of always asking as to his or her peculiarities. 

Thirteenth — That sex modifies all diseases connected with the organs 
of generation, but it also does more. A woman is more impressible, less 
robust, with less power of resisting external agencies, than a man. Conse¬ 
quently, the dose for her should, as a rule, be less. 

Fourteenth — That age materially modifies the dose. The proportion of 
an adult dose to be given at various ages during infancy and childhood is 
clearly set forth in the following rule: The proportionate dose for any age 
is represented by the number of the following birthday divided by twenty- 
four. Thus, for one year it is 2 2 4 = iV; for two years, &=}; for three years, 
2^=i; for five years, for eleven years, |f=£, etc. 

Fifteenth — That it must always be borne in mind that children do not 
bear narcotics well, and that the doses of such remedies for them should 
always be proportionately smaller than for the adult. 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


367 


Sixteenth — That directions must be carefully followed. Medicine should 
be given exactly at the hour directed, neither before nor after the time. 
There is a real reason for ordering medicine to be given at certain desig¬ 
nated periods. The hours of administration are not taken haphazard, but 
are definitely fixed because the drugs prescribed take a certain time to 
develop their physiological effect, and this time differs with the various 
remedies prescribed. Always ask the attending physician if the medicine 
is to be taken at night if the patient be sleeping, or whether during the 
day he should be aroused from sleep to take it. Sleep is the greatest 
remedy in all of nature’s storehouse, and as a rule it is not desirable to 
arouse a sleeping patient to take either food or medicine. There are some 
cases, however, when the illness is of such a character as to require the 
remedy to be given even at the expense of the rest of the patient. An 
inquiry therefore is always proper and wise, as valuable moments may be 
lost on account of a misunderstanding. 

Seventeenth —That medicines act more quickly when taken on an empty 
stomach, therefore cathartics should be taken the first thing in the morn¬ 
ing, at least an hour before breakfast. For the same reason, medicines 
designed to produce sleep should be given several hours after the evening 
meal. In this connection it is not amiss to note that with such remedies 
their action is greatly hastened by being taken with a hot drink of some 
sort. Medicines requiring considerable dilution, such as corrosive or irrita¬ 
ting substances, are best taken after meals, as the food acts as a diluent 
in addition to the liberal quantity of fluid in which they should always be 
administered. 

Eighteenth — That the disagreeable taste of many drugs can be removed 
or prevented by being taken in the proper vehicle. Lemon or orange 
juice, essence of wintergreen or peppermint, taken just before and after 
the dose will, by partially paralyzing or obtunding the nerves of taste, 
prevent the dose from being disagreeable. Chewing a piece of bread crust 
is one of the best means of disguising a bad taste. 

Nineteenth — That when a child refuses to take his medicine, by holding 
the nose and placing the spoon containing the medicine as far back as 
possible, it can be administered without any difficulty. Remember in this 
connection, he cannot choke, and that if the spoon has been placed on the 
root of the tongue, and the nose held till the child swallows, he cannot 
spit it up. Most persons in giving medicine in this way let go of the nose 
too soon and permit the child to spit out the nauseous dose before he has 
swallowed it. Most children can be coaxed to take medicine; it is not 
good to have them struggle in taking it, but in some instances the method 
just described must be employed. 

What should a medicine chest contain ? This question is answered in a 
variety of ways, as each person has his individual opinion on the subject, 
modified in execution by circumstance and the purpose to be subserved. 
It should be remembered that children need but very little medicine and 
that of the simplest kind. The medicine chest should contain only such 
domestic remedies as are well known in their action and are easy of 


3 68 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


administration. By this is understood, medicines which the ordinary house* 
keeper can readily procure and prepare, not those which may be particu¬ 
larly distasteful to a child, for anything bearing the name of medicine is 
distasteful to a child. 

The following list arranged, first alphabetically ,and secondly according 
to therapeutic classification, contains about all the articles usually needed 
in domestic medicines. 

It can be made as elaborate as the desire and ability of the person 
may dictate. Some may be omitted and others substituted: — 


DRUGS 


Aconite 

Alcohol 

Alum 

Ammonia Water 
Aromatic Spirits of Ammonia 
Tincture of Arnica 
Tincture of Asafetida 
Tincture of Belladonna 
Brandy 

Bismuth Subnitrate 
Boracic Acid 
Bromide of Potash 
Bichloride of Mercury 
Calomel 

Spirits of Camphor 
Carbolic Acid 

Cascara Sagrada (fluid extract) 

Castor Oil 

Chloroform 

Chloroform Liniment 

Cod-Liver Oil 

Copper Sulphate 

Creolin 

Tincture of Digitalis 
Epsom Salts 
Fluid Extract of Ergot 
Ether 

Essence of Ginger 
Formalin 
Flaxseed Meal 
Glycerine 
Tincture of Iodine 
Iodoform 
Syrup of Ipecac 


Iron Sulphate 
Laudanum 
Sugar of Lead 
Lime Water 
Morphine 
Mustard 

Nitroglycerin Tablets T £o gr. 
Essence of Peppermint 
Paregoric 
Essence of Pepsin 
Potassium Chlorate 
Potassium Permanganate 
Peroxide Hydrogen 
Quinine 

Quinine and Dover’s Powder 

Syrup of Rhubarb 

Rochelle Salts 

Salicylic Acid 

Soda Mint 

Strychnine 

Sulphur 

Syrup of Squills 
Squibb’s Mixture 
Seidlitz Powder 
Silver Nitrate 
Sodium Bicarbonate 
Sweet Spirits of Niter 
Turpentine 
Talcum Powder 
Zinc Oxide 
Zinc Sulphate 
Whiskey 

Syrup White Pine 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 


369 


EMERGENCY BOX 


Mustard plasters, one box 

Glycerine suppositories, one bottle 

One box cold cream 

One bottle vaseline, plain 

One bottle vaseline, carbolated 

One fountain syringe 

One rectal syringe 

One hot-water bottle 

One roll oil silk 

One roll cloths for poultices 

Atomizer . 


One package of absorbent cotton 
Bandages 

One hypodermic needle 

One vial of antiseptic ligatures 

One case of assorted surgeon’s needles 

One pair scissors 

One package of safety pins 

Medicine glass 

One and two-ounce glass 

Graduate 

Minim graduate 


Other things may suggest themselves as desirable, for one never 
knows when the occasion may arise to demand the immediate use of any 
of them. As an emergency case the two lists above given will consti¬ 
tute practically all that the average household will be called upon to 
furnish. 

In arranging the medicine and emergency compartments one point 
must ever be borne in mind and that is, when once a system of arrang¬ 
ing the contents has been made, under no circumstances should it be 
changed. Every article should have its own place, and it must always 
be returned at once to that position after being used. The arrangement 
can be either alphabetically; by classification according to medicinal 
properties; by the size and shape of the bottles or packages, or any other 
system which may commend itself. In drug stores, the usual method is 
any arrangement according to the kind of preparation; thus all liquids 
in one line and solids in another. The syrups are placed together, like¬ 
wise all tinctures or oils are in a row by themselves. The chief difficulty 


in classifying them according to their medicinal 

action is due to the fact 

that a drug is often used for a number of purposes and is therefore as- 

signed to more than 

one division. However, 

the following table is 

arranged according to 
list above given: — 

the most frequent use of the several drugs in the 

Anesthetics 

Anodynes 

Antacids 

Chloroform 

Laudanum 

Bicarbonate of Soda 

Ether 

Morphine 

Lime Water 


Paregoric 

Soda Mint 

* 

Squibb’s Mixture 


Antiper iodics 

Antipyretics 

Antiseptics 

Quinine 

Cold Water 

Boracic Acid 

Phenacetin 

Carbolic Acid 


Quinine 

Salicylic Acid 


Quinine and Dover’s Powder 

Iodoform 

Formalin 

* 


Permanganate of Potash 
Bichloride of Mercury 


1-24 


37o 

A ntispasmodics 
Asafetida 
Camphor 


Cathartics 

Fluid Cascara Sagrada 
Castor Oil 
Epsom Salts 
Rochelle Salts 
Seidlitz Powders 
Calomel 
Rhubarb Syrup 

Demulcents 

Flaxseed 


Diaphoretics 
Tincture of Aconite 
Quinine and Dover’s Powder 
Alcohol in the form of hot 
drinks 


Expectorants 
Atomization 
Syrup of Ipecac 
Syrup of Squills 
Syrup of White Pine Co. 
Glycerine 

Sedatives 

Tincture of Belladonna 
Bromide of Potash 
Heart Stimulants 
Aromatic Spirits of Ammonia 
Tincture of Digitalis 
Nitroglycerin and Strychnine 


THE MEDICINE CHEST 

Astringents 

Alum 

Acetate of Lead 
Bismuth Subnitrate 
Potassium Chlorate 
Sulphate of Zinc 

Caustic 

Alum 

Carbolic Acid, pure 
Nitrate of Silver 
Copper Sulphate 


Disinfectants 
All the Antiseptics 
and Copperas or Sulphate 
of Iron, Sulphate of 
Zinc, Creolin, Sulphur 
Emetics 
Syrup Ipecac 
Mustard Water 
Sulphate of Zinc 


Laxatives 

Same as Cathartics, 
only usually given in 
smaller doses 


Stimulants 

Brandy 

Essence of Peppermint 
Whiskey 

Heart Depressants 
Tincture of Aconite 


Carminitives 
Essence of Ginger 
Essence of Peppermint 
Asafetida 
Soda Mint 

Cou n ter- irritants 
Tincture of Arnica 
Tincture of Iodine 
Mustard 
Turpentine 
Aqua Ammonia 

Diuretics 

Tincture of Belladonna 
Tincture of Digitalis 
Sweet Spirits of Niter 

Emollients 
Flaxseed Poultice 
Vaseline 
Lard 
Glycerine 
Talcum Powder 
Oxide Zinc 

Opiates 

Laudanum 

i 

Morphine 

Paregoric 

Tonics 

Strychnine 

Digestan f s 
Essence of Pepsin 



















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